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ESSAYS 


ON THE 


FOLLOWING SUBJECTS: 


pleasuresof literature. 

LEISURE. 

EDUCATION. 

READING. 

STUDY. 

CONVERSATION. 

DECISION. 


ENTERPRISE. 

SUCCESS 

PHILOSOPHY. 

CLASSICAL LEARNING. 
RELIGION AND LEARNING 
UNITED. 



BY T. HATHAWAY. 


** Every accession which raau gains to his knowledge is also an accession to 
his power ; and extends the limits of his empire over the world which 
he inhabits .”—Lord Bacon. 



< ■ 

BISHOPSSTORTFORD: & 

PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY J. M. MULLINGER j 

SOLD ALSO BY 

B. J. IIOLDSWORTH, 18, ST. PAUL’S CHURCH YARD, LONDON. 


1827 
























t 






■ 












' 




























































CONTENTS 


% 


DEDICATION . v 

LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS.. ix 

PREFACE .xvii 

THE PLEASURES OF LITERATURE . 1 

LEISURE. 23 

EDUCATION. 42 

READING. 65 

STUDY. 83 

CONVERSATION . 99 

DECISION.115 

ENTERPRISE .135 

SUCCESS.155 

CLASSICAL LEARNING.173 

PHILOSOPHY.197 

RELIGION AND LEARNING UNITED.223 
















































. - * * /•!» ' ■ * * •••••* . 






.... ■ 

• . • • 







-/.uqqiiii • tit 










' 














TO THE 


REV. F. A. COX, LL.D. 

HONORARY SECRETARY TO THE COUNCIL OF 
THE UNIVERSITY OF LONDON. 


Rev. Sir, 

Your kindness in complying 
with my request to dedicate the following work 
to you, has impressed new convictions of your 
liberality and candour. Though it would be 
too much to expect its execution should meet 
with your intire approbation, yet such is my 
knowledge of your character, that I am sure 
you will be less inclined to dwell on its inac¬ 
curacies, than to smile on my endeavours, how 
ineffectual so ever they may appear, to augment 
the happiness of others. You have long been 
known both in the religious and literary world; 



VI 


DEDICATION. 


and by the manner in which you have exerted 
your shining talents in each, you have com¬ 
manded the respect and admiration of all, who 
are able to appreciate genuine excellence. It 
was extremely natural, when I thought of pub¬ 
lishing my humble performance, under the aus¬ 
pices of a learned person, that I should make 
choice of yourself; for to say nothing of the 
high sentiments of esteem which your piety 
and virtues have always inspired, you have 
shewn no ordinary concern for the wide diffu¬ 
sion of useful knowledge; and in nothing more 
is this apparent, than in your exertions, as Ho¬ 
norary Secretary to the Council of the London 
University. If there was ever a period in 
which an attention to the interests of learning 
was considered illaudable in the public teacher 
of religion, that period is now completely past, 
and nothing is deemed more noble by intelligent 
Christians of everv denomination, than to see a 
minister, while he is careful in discharging all 
the duties of his pastoral office, descend occa¬ 
sionally, from the elevations of his sacred em¬ 
ployment to assist in those pursuits, which aim 


DEDICATION. 


VU 


to improve and adorn our rational natures. In 
what light, Sir, the Institution with which you 
are so honourably connected, is viewed by the 
community at large, it cannot be supposed, an 
individual so obscure as myself, possesses any 
accurate information. That it promises to bless 
and adorn the nation, by affording to a greater 
number of his Majesty’s subjects, a more deep 
and enlarged acquaintance with literature and 
science, must be obvious to the most superficial 
observer. As it assumes no unfriendly aspect 
towards other seats of learning, but proposes to 
assist in improving the intellectual character of 
England, and thus to increase the splendours of 
the present reign, it may well be conceived to 
draw forth the praises of our nobles, and of the 
highest and most august personage in the land. 

The efforts which you have made, Sir, to give 
publicity to this dignified affair, and to shew its 
great importance merit the warmest applause: 
and though it is a consideration which falls with 
no weight on a mind like yours, that aspires to 
more exalted honours than this world can con¬ 
fer, your name is imprinted on that of the age; 


viii DEDICATION. 

nor will you fail to be revered by the latest pos¬ 
terity as one, who devoted himself to the intel¬ 
lectual and religious improvement of his 
v countrymen. 

That you may long be preserved to run the 
same career of eminent distinction, is the sincere 
and fervent prayer of. Sir, 

Your much obliged, 

And most obedient, 
Humble Servant, 

T. HATHAWAY. 


SUBSCRIBERS. 


Abethell, R. Esq. Sheerness. 

Ackworth, William, Esq. Luton, two copies. 
Ackworth, Mr. George, Chatham, two copies. 
Ackworth, Mr. E. London. 

Ambrose, Mr. Sheerness. 

Archer, Mrs. Sheerness. 

Bacon, Mr. London. 

Banks, Sir Edward, Sheerness, two copies. 
Banks, Lady, Sheerness, two copies. 

Barber, Mr. Colchester. 

Bligh, Thomas. Esq. Langham, two copies. 
Bligh, John, Esq. Langham, two copies. 
Bligh, Daniel, Esq. Langham, two copies. 
Barnard, Mr. Sittingbourne. two copies. 
Bate, Mr. W. Chatham. 

Bailey, Rev. W. Windsor. 

Batcheldor. Mr. Queenboro. 

Barron, Mr. Bordon, two copies. 

Barnard, Mr. London. 

Beal, Mr. Sheerness. 

Beal, Mr. R. Maidstone. 

Beaumont, Mr. W. jun. Bishops Stortford. 
Bird, Mr. Bishops Stortford. 

Bird, Mr. J. B. Bishops Stortford. 



X 


SUBSCRIBERS. 


Bishop, Mr. H. Chatham. 

Breeze, Mr. Scott, Queenboro. 

Brock, Mr. W. Chatham. 

Brown, Mr. Sheerness. 

Butcher, Miss, Chatham. 

Capel, J. Esq. M.P. London, four copies 
Carden, Capt. R. N. Sheerness. 
Chambers, John, Esq. Sheppy. 
Chambers, Mr. Henry, Sheppy. 
Chambers, Mr. John, Sheppy. 

Chambers, Mr. William, Sheppy. 
Chaplin, Rev. W. Bishops Stortford. 
Chaplin, Mr. F. Bishops Stortford. 
Chaplin, Mr. Colchester. 

Clements, Mr. Bishops Stortford. 

Cole, Mr. G. Queenboro. 

Crawford, Mrs. Sheerness. 

Crump, Mrs. Rochester. 

Cunningham, Mr. Chatham. 

Davison, Mr. Sheerness. 

Dawkins, Mr. J. A. Sheerness. 

Dean, Rev. J. Sittingbourne, two copies. 
Dodgson, Miss, Bishops Stortford. 

Easterby, Mr. J. Sheerness. 

Edge, Mr. Brompton. 

Edmeads, Mr. Sheerness. 

Edwards, Rev. Mr. Sheerness. 

Edw r ards, Mr. W. Sheerness. 

Eisdell, Mr. J. Colchester. 

Everest, Mr. C. Sheerness. 

Fabian, Lieut. R. N. London. 

Fearnell, Miss, Woolwich, two copies. 


SUBSCRIBERS. 


Xl 


Featherstone, Mr. Sheerness, 

Firman, Mr. Colchester. 

Fife, Mr, Sheerness. 

Flunder, Mr. R. Sheerness. 

Ford, London. 

Franceis, Rev. G. Colchester. 

A Friend, Sheerness. 

Ditto 

Ditto 

Ditto 

Ditto, Colchester. 

Ditto, Bishops Stortford. 

George, Mrs. Chatham. 

George, Miss, Chatham. 

Gilbert, Mrs. Chatham* 

Glascock, Mr* Bishops Stortford. 

Gooding, Mr* Chatham. 

Gorham, Mr. John, Sheerness. 

Gould, Miss, Rochester. 

Green, Mr. Chatham. 

Green, Mr. Colchester. 

Green, Mr. Sheerness* 

Haddon, Mr. London, twelve copies. 

Hardy, Mr. Colchester. 

Harman, Mr. Sheerness* 

Hathaway, Mr. J. Bishops Stortford, two copies. 
Haywood, Mrs. Sittingbourne. 

Herbert, Mr. Sheerness. 

Hearne, Miss, Bishops Stortford. 

Hinge, Mr. E. J. Wade. 

Higgins, Mr. Chatham. 

Higgins, Mr. W. Sheerness* 

Hockley, Mr. Sheerness. 

Hollick, Mr. Chatham. 

Hooker, Mr. Sheerness 



XU 


SUBSCRIBERS. 


Hooker, Mr. J. London, four copies. 
Hopkins, Mr. Chatham. 

Horton, Capt. R. N. Sheerness. 

Hughes, Mr. T. Sheerness. 

Humphrys, Lieut. Sheerness. 

Hutcheson, A. Copland, M. D. Sheerness 
Hutcheson, Mrs. Sheerness. 

Ivimey, Rev. J. London. 

Jackson, G. Esq. Sheerness. 

Johns, E. B. Esq. Bishops Stortford. 
Johnstone, Mr. Bishops Stortford. 

Julian, Mr. Sheerness, two copies. 

Julian, Mrs. Sheerness, two copies. 

Kent, Mrs. Sheerness. 

Keymer, Mr. T. Colchester. 

Kirkby, Rev. Mr. Sheerness. 

Kirkby, Mrs. Sheerness. 

Knewstub, Mr. Sheerness. 

Laker, Mr. Boiden. 

Lang, Oliver, Esq. Woolwich, two copies 
Lang, Miss, Woolwich. 

Lang, Mr. W. 0. Woolwich, three copies 
Lang, Mr. C. Woolwich. 

Langley, Mr. Chatham. 

Large, Mr. Chatham. 

Lawrence, Mr. E. Barham. 

Leak, Mr. Colchester. 

Leftly, Mr. Sheerness. 

Loots, Mr. Braughing 

Mabbs, Mr. Chatham. 

Marks, Mr. C. B. Sheerness. 

Martin, H. M.D. Chatham. 


SUBSCRIBERS. 


Maxwell, Miss, S. Sheerness. 

Maxwell, Miss, M. Sheerness. 

May, Mr. W. Sheerness. 

M’c Kain, Esq. Sheerness. 

Millard, Mr. P. London. 

Mitchell, Mr. Sheerness. 

More, Mr. Sheerness. 

Morris, Mr. Colchester. 

Moulton, Mr. G. Sheerness, two copies 
Mullinger, Mr. W. Chatham. 

Mullinger, Mr. G. Chatham. 

Mullinger, Mr. E. Sheerness. 

Mullinger, Mr. J. Bishops Stortford. 

Neale, Mr. Rochester. 

Norton, Miss, Rochester. 

Ortord, Mr. Colchester. 

Osborne, Mr. G. Chatham. 

Parkins, H. M.D. Woolwich, four copies 
Patrick, Mrs. Sheerness. 

Pearce, Mr. Chatham. 

Penny, Mr. J. M. Sheerness. 
Pennington, Miss, Windsor. 

Pickernell, Capt. R. N. Sheerness. 
Pitcher, Mr. Brompton. 

Pope, Mr. G. Brompton. 

Potts, Mr W. Chatham. 

Potts, Mr. J. Sheerness. 

Pownell, Esq. Sheerness, two copies. 
Price, Rev. J. Chatham. 

Prankard, Rev. J. Sheerness, two copies 
Pratt, Mr. Chatham. 

Puitzler, Mrs. Woolwich. 


/ 


xiv SUBSCRIBERS. 

Quin, Mr. Maldon. 

Ray, Mr. Milton, two copies. 

Rayner, Mr. Sheerness. 

Redford, Rev. A. Windsor. 

Roaf, Rev. W. Highbury College. 

Rudd, Major, Sheerness. 

Rudd, Mrs. Sheerness. 

Rutley, Mr. Milton. 

Ruffle, Mr. Bishops Stortford. 

Sabourne, Mr. London. 

Saunders, J. Esq. London, two copies. 
Saunders, T. Esq. London, two copies. 
Savill, Rev. J. Colchester. 

Scott, Mr. Colchester. 

Seager, Mr. Sheerness. 

Seaton, Esq. Sheerness, two copies. 

Selby, Mr. Sheerness. 

Selby, Mr. J. Sheerness. 

Seymour, Miss, Bishops Stortford. 
Shenston, Rev. J. B. Ixmdon, two copies. 
Shirley, Mr. G. Rochester. 

Shirley, Mr. R. Chatham. 

Shrewsbury, Mrs. E. Chatham. 
Shrubsole, Mr. Sheerness, two copies 
Simmons, Mr. Sheerness. 

Slatterie, Rev. J. Chatham, two copies. 
Slater, Mr. T. Bishops Stortford. 

Smith, Mrs. G. Queenboro. 

Smith, Mr. W. Sheerness. 

South, Mr. S. Sheerness. 

Sparling, Mr. Bishops Stortford. 
Sparling, Mrs. Bishops Stortford. 
Spencer, Mr. Bishops Stortford. 

Stevens, Mr. Chatham 


i 


SUBSCRIBERS. 


XV 


Stephens, Miss, Chatham. 
Strangeway, Capt. R. N. Woolwich. 

Taylor, Mr. S. Sittingbourne. 
Thompson, Mr. S. Sheerness. 
Thompson, Mr. W. Queenboro. 
Tyler, Mr. Bishops Stortford. 

T. C. 

Varlo, Mrs. Woolwich. 

Varlo, Miss, Woolwich. 

Verlander, Mrs. Maldon. 

Waller, Lieut. Sheerness. 

Walker, Mr. Sheerness, four copies. 
Ward, W. Esq. Sheerness. 

Ward, Mr. J. Sheerness. 
Warmington, Mr. Colchester. 
Watson, Major, Chatham. 

Wells, Mr. Sheerness. 

Webb, Mr. Sheerness. 

White, Mrs. Chatham. 

Willmot, Miss, Windsor, two copies. 
Wilson, T. Esq. Highbury. 

Wollard, Mr. Sheerness. 

Wood, Rev. Mr. Eastehurch. 

Wood, Mr. Sheerness. 

Wyatt, Mr. Chatham. 

Wybourne, Mrs. Woolwich. 


Yardley, Mr. P. Bishops Stortford. 




PREFACE. 


THE duty of authors is very different now, 
from what it was in former times. Then it was 
necessary, not more to impart instruction, than to 
diffuse a taste for reading and knowledge. The value 
of mental cultivation and improvement was but little 
appreciated, and books of almost every description, 
failed to produce any considerable interest. The 
labours of this class of men, have been eminently 
blessed in awakening the mind to perceive the 
necessity of information. In the present day, this 
is widely felt and acknowledged, and readers are 
waiting on every hand to receive fresh materials to 
amuse their liberal leisure. A change so important, 
and delightful, has imposed new difficulties on the 
writer, and he is extremely liable to disappoint 



PREFACE. 


xviii 

expectation and excite disgust. Happily for many 
who assume this character, there are two species of 
composition, which, though materially different in 
point of intrinsic excellence, always obtain with a 
candid and enlightened public. The first is the 
offspring of genius and learning; and by the origi¬ 
nality of conception, the forcible manner of illustra¬ 
tion, the beauty of style, and the constant attention 
to nature, which are its distinguished characteristics, 
it not only produces satisfaction, but leaves no void, 
with respect to pleasure, or curiosity, unsupplied. 
There is another kind of writing which it is proper 
to mention, the design of which is not to astonish 
with splendour, but humbly to excite enquiry, not to 
afford perpetual oharms, but to send the reader in 
quest of happiness, not to communicate information, 
but to stir up the mind by way of remembrance. 

To this second species of composition, do the 
following Essays belong. There is nothing which 
has more strongly impressed the mind of the author, 
while endeavouring to increase his small stock of 
knowledge, than a natural inaptitude to estimate its 
real worth, and to consider the solid pleasures which 
it is adapted to impart. It occurred to him, that 
he might, without being illiberal, conclude there 
were others, who felt the same impression, and that 
no blame could be attached to the undertaking, if he 


PREFACE. 


xix 


humbly contributed his share, in drawing forth 
attention to so important a subject. In addition to 
these observations, he may remark, that in his 
intercourse with society, he has met with several 
individuals, who entertained a very unfavour¬ 
able opinion of their intellectual powers, and who 
were often deterred from prosecuting their inquiries, 
from a supposition, that it is impossible to descend 
below the surface of things, without the advantage 
of a liberal or academical education. The author 
has fallen into a great mistake, in the opinion which 
he has formed, if a conviction of this kind, be not 
extensively prevalent; at the same time, he has 
occasionally attempted to shew in the following 
pages, that it is ill-founded, nor shall he be surprised, 
if some of his remarks respecting it, should be con¬ 
sidered fanciful. 

That the titles of the Essays are interesting, none 
will pretend to deny; whether they are discussed in 
a manner adapted to please and edify, is a question 
of a very different nature. The author can only 
say, that this has been his constant aim. He has 
followed no invariable method, nor often confined 
himself to any particular views of a subject, but put 
down such thoughts as it seemed naturally to suggest, 
and such as he humbly hopes, are not improper, some¬ 
times to engage the mind during the moments of 



XX 


PREFACE. 


retirement, and sometimes to afford materials for 
rational conversation. He flatters himself no impor¬ 
tant principle has been disturbed, no observation 
ostentatiously made, no authority wantonly im¬ 
pugned. 


Sheerness , March , 1827. 


ON THE 


PLEASURES OF LITERATURE. 


Hate studia adolescentiam a mint, senectvtem oblectant , secundas res or nan/, 
adversis perfugium ac solatium prebent , delectant domi, non impediunt 
foris , pernoctant nobiscum, peregrinantur, rusticanlur. 


CICERO PRO ARCHIA. 


These studies give exercise to youth, entertain old age, adorn prospe¬ 
rity, afford a retreat and solace to adversity, administer delight at 
home, occasion no impediment abroad, continue with us during the 
night, accompany us in our travels, and dwell with us in our rural 
retirement. 


NOTHING is more the subject of common 
remark, than that the benevolent author of na- 



numberless sources 


ture, has 


of real enjoyment; and that the reason why so 

I . * 

much unhappiness abounds, is principally owing 
I to an inattention to the means, by which it 
may be counteracted. To a grateful mind, it 
appears not more a duty than a delight, to sur¬ 
vey these in their ample variety and extent, and 
| especially in their admirable adaption to the pur- 


A 



o 


THE PLEASURES 


poses, for which they were intended. Though 
they are characterized by different degrees of 
excellence and importance, they all bear the 
impress of divine goodness, and it is one part of 
wisdom, to aim to secure those, which are within 
the reach of our attainment. 

Of all the pleasures which are limited to the 
present scene of things, much more may be said 
of such as are derived from literature, than from 
any other quarter. Perhaps it is not too much 
to affirm, that religion and learning are the great 
originals, to which every sober gratification may 
be immediately, or more remotely traced. In 
making this remark, it is far from my intention 
to place any literary study on an equality with 
the pursuits of religion. It is obvious to every 
one who reflects, that whatever delights us as 
candidates for immortality, must, for its intrin¬ 
sic worth, and endless duration, infinitely surpass 
the noblest amusements of an earthly kind. 

The author hopes he shall not be chargeable 
with doing violence to the term literature, in 
considering it to apply to every department of 
learning: and it may be proper to observe in 


OF LITERATURE. 


3 


this place, for the sake of perspicuity, that the 
following* remarks are intended to be extremely 
general. 

Notwithstanding the great diversity which 
marks the objects of literary research, there is 
one feature of resemblance, common to them all. 
1 allude to their direct tendency to promote 
mental cultivation; so that let our attention be 
employed on which of them soever we please, 
there is always more or less the conviction of 
acting a part, conformable to the dignity of our 
natures. As none but those who are immersed 
in the grossest indulgencies, deny the exercise of 
any faculty of the mind to be truly laudable, it 
is, at the same time, almost universally acknow¬ 
ledged, that to the operations of intellect, are 
attached joys, to which the votaries of sordid 
pleasure are entire strangers. It belongs to the 
lovers of the arts and sciences, and to them 
more especially, to enter into the rapture which 
is felt, as often as the perceptions become more 
vivid, the attention more deeply fixed, the fancy 
more enriched, or the taste more refined. 

If the exercise of the mental faculties gives 

a 2 


4 


THE PLEASURES 


birth to such brisk and lively emotions; the ac¬ 
quisition of knowledge is probably a more fruit¬ 
ful source of pleasure. It is by this means we 
learn to perfect our reason, to enlarge our ca¬ 
pacity of bliss, and to ascertain our dignity and 
importance in the scale of being. Wherever 
there is a correct notion of the value of inform¬ 
ation, it is always regarded as the proper food 
and nourishment of the mind, and from a con¬ 
sciousness of the rich repast which it will afford, 
it is generally sought with the same avidity, as 
the aliment of the body, when we experience 
the cravings of appetite. The pleasures of 
which I am speaking, are sometimes heighten¬ 
ed, by a review of the acquisitions which we 
have made. In beholding a noble edifice, we 
cannot fail to admire the many proofs, which it 
displays, of skill in architecture; but we readily 
turn from these to examine the furniture and 
decorations of its numerous apartments. In 
like manner, though we are struck with the di¬ 
vine contrivance manifested in the interior fa¬ 
bric of our natures, we are better pleased to 
see every part replenished and adorned. Not 


OF LITERATURE. 


y 

to remark, that if our knowledge be general 
and abundant, we may, by the help of the im¬ 
agination, become spectators of the scenes and 
transactions of the earliest times, may become 
companions of the most enlightened travellers 
throughout the globe; and converse with the 
virtuous and the great of every age and nation. 

The pleasures now under consideration, ap¬ 
pear the more substantial, when compared with 
the amusements of the merely fashionable and 
gay. The latter are to be commended, only as 
they afford an agreeable relaxation from la¬ 
borious pursuits, or as they contribute to the 
preservation of health. The former, inasmuch 
as they ennoble our natures, are justly to be re¬ 
garded as rational. In the one, it is proper often 
to check our propensities, lest we should pro¬ 
ceed farther than is consistent with discretion ; 
and though examples of imprudence are not 
wanting in the other, these are, comparatively, 
of rare occurrence, and by no means supersede 
the necessity of urging the mind on the ground 
of its being an innocent employ, to cultivate its 
happiness and improvement. Other gratifica- 


6 * 


THE PLEASURES 


(ions are for the most part of a selfish nature; 
they narrow, rather than extend the influence 
of character, and are, by their tendency to viti¬ 
ate the moral taste, adapted to crush the bene¬ 
volent affections. In a well regulated mind, 
those derived from literature, operate in a 
manner widely different. From a conviction of 
the superior joys connected with the possession 
of knowledge, arises a disposition to impart it 
to others ; and though it is of the nature of so¬ 
lid attainments, to lead the individual to avoid 
ostentation, and to court the shade, he will im¬ 
perceptibly gain esteem, and command respect; 
while in consequence of the refined and delicate 
scenes, constantly exhibited to his imagination, 
fty the facts of history, and the creations of poet¬ 
ry, he learns to acquire new perceptions of 
beauty and goodness,—to be more touching in 
his sympathies, and more generous in his bene¬ 
volence.* “ Intellectual pleasure is as much 
nobler than that of sense; as an immortal spirit 
is more noble than a clod of earth. The plea- 

* Doctrina sed vim promovet insitam, 

Eectique cultus pectora roborant.— Horace . 


OF LITERATURE. 


/ 

sure of sense is drossie, feculent, the pleasures 
of the mind, refined and pure; that is faint and 
languid, this lively and vigorous; that scant 
and limited, this ample and enlarged ; that tem¬ 
porary and fading, this durable and permanent; 
that flashy, superficial, this solid and intense; 
that raving and distracted, this calm and com¬ 
posed. Whence even that great (reputed) sen¬ 
sualist, Epicurus himself, professedly disclaims, 
(or is represented as disclaiming) the conceit of 
placing happiness in sensual delights.”* 

The accomplishments of the mind, have this 
peculiar excellence, that as they are limited to 
neither age, sex, nor character, so they are ca¬ 
pable of imparting interest at all times, and in 
all places. They are so far from confining their 
agreeable influence to the hours of study and 
solitude, that this may rather be considered the 
earnest of pleasures more ample and exhilirat- 
ing. The universe appears to the man of culti¬ 
vation, a boundless theatre, exhibiting before 
him, in endless succession, fresh scenes of beauty 


* Howe. 


8 


THE PLEASURES 


and glory. Accustomed to the contemplation 
of greatness, elegance and symmetry, he is not 
only possessed of an exquisite relish for these 
qualities, but is conscious of a propensity to seek 
for them, in all the objects with which he be¬ 
comes familiar. As in the works of nature, 
they are seen in the fairest colours, so in con¬ 
sequence of incessantly surrounding him, they 
are always administering delight. Nor is this 
merely derived from the more magnificent 
appearances in creation. It proceeds, moreover, 
from causes the most minute, and which by 
those who are careless of refinement, are often 
unobserved. Indeed, circumstances and events 
which are daily passing before them, but rarely 
affect the minds of the vulgar. If they are the 
subjects of pleasing emotions, beyond what is 
common, it isowing to something extraordinary; 
it is, when art or nature bursts upon them in un¬ 
expected splendour. But the character to whom 
I am now alluding, is not indebted for these, to 
the charms of novelty: with him, the power of 
affording satisfaction, lies less in sudden appear¬ 
ances, than in a more intimate acquaintance 


OF LITERATURE. 


9 ' 


with things already known. It consists to a 
great degree, in exercising his reasoning facul¬ 
ties, in ascertaining the relations of cause and 
effect, and in viewing marks of design, where- 
ever they are to be traced. His attention is 
arrested, not so much by the magnitude, as by 
the quality of objects. He loves to dwell on the 
variety and arrangement of their parts, on their 
adaptation to one result, and on the useful situ¬ 
ation which they occupy. Hence, if the plea¬ 
surable feelings excited on beholding objects of 
sublimity be more violent, they are neither so 
frequent, nor so steady as those which arise, 
from the smallest productions of nature. 

There is another view of the subject, which 
though it may appear trifling, and even ludi¬ 
crous to some, will not be thought inappropriate 
by men of education. Every one, it is presumed, 
is consoious of many trains of reflexion, many 
occasional thoughts, and of numberless expres¬ 
sions, which are not only inelegant and common 
place, but which are even grovelling and low. 
Neither the best course of instruction, nor the * 
choicest companionship, has been found, in every 

a 3 


10 


THE PLEASURES 


case, an effectual antidote against their preva¬ 
lence and growth. On the contrary, a certain 
degree of rusticity attaches to every gradation 
of society, where no care is employed to tame 
the wildness; and prune the luxuriance, common 
to mankind. Now in the attempt to disengage 
the mind from low thoughts, and to obtain a 
vocabulary of correct expressions, a considerable 
degree of gratification is often experienced. It 
will probably be said, that this observation ap¬ 
plies more particularly, to feelings of a refined 
delicacy, or to the moments of reading and 
study. But to this, I reply, that the awakened 
joy of ennobling the conceptions, and of selecting 
appropriate words is felt more or less, by every 
lover of taste and elegance, and even when en¬ 
gaged in pursuits, which have no connexion 
with literature. It is natural for these persons, 
whatever be their situation in life, to seek for 
juster views of things, and to aim to express them¬ 
selves, on the most familiar and ordinary topics, 
with propriety. Disgusted, as they always are, 
with the least appearance of singularity, in en¬ 
deavouring to give a polish to the character. 


11 


OF LITERATURE. 

they cannot but congratulate themselves, that in 
their intercourse with certain minds, they are 
under no necessity, to imitate the meanness and 
vulgarity of their habits. In a word, to main¬ 
tain a struggle with incoherence and obscurity, 
together with every other quality which debases 
the intellect, and to quicken the sense of delica¬ 
cy and beauty, is an employ, common to him, 
who makes the slightest pretences to elegant 
learning. 

It must not, however, be concealed, that 
many are apt to indulge very mistaken views on 
this subject. Anxious to shew their superiority 
to the uneducated part of society, they verge 
into the opposite extreme of pedantry, and by 
supercilious airs, and a fondness for pompous 
expressions, they not only betray their own vani¬ 
ty and ignorance, but succeed with many, in 
holding up a learned education to ridicule. 
Since other guides have succeeded to Addison, 
Swift, and Temple, high sounding epithets, and 
phrases have multiplied with so amazing a ra¬ 
pidity, that an unusual degree of caution is ne¬ 
cessary to avoid adopting them, and to express 


12 


THE PLEASURES 


ourselves on all occasions, with a wished-for 
simplicity and ease. According* to Caesar, the 
well-instructed avoid all unnatural expressions, 
as the mariner shuns the rocks and quicksands; 
and he who adopts them in his writings, and 
much more in his conversation, is little suscepti¬ 
ble of the pleasures which I am attempting to 
describe. 

But while the author would be thought to 
believe, that simplicity is a property, which 
pervades every thing that can delight the intel¬ 
lect, he is not aware that all who inculcate it, 
are qualified to give judgment, when its rules 
are broken. There is, it should be remembered, 
a simplicity of meanness, as well as of dignity: 
and though in their eagerness to repress every 
thing that is singular, some give loose to un¬ 
couth expressions, and pronounce the least de¬ 
viation from their conduct, pedantic, it is surely 
possible to convey our ideas with clearness, and 
at the same time in select phraseology, without 
justly incurring such a charge. When some 
one expressed to Burke and Pitt his surprise at 

the correctness with which they delivered their 

* 


OF LITERATURE. 


13 


speeches in Parliament, they remarked it was 
their practice, to study it in the most familiar 
conversation. It will not, perhaps, be deemed 
presumptuous to add, that he who is altogether 
inattentive to this circumstance, may abound in 
knowledge, but is ill-qualified to speak of the 
agreeable influence which arises from polite 
accomplishments. 

Of the many kinds of literary pleasure, that 
which proceeds from mental associations, is 
abundantly copious, and too important to be 
overlooked. “ By means of the association of 
ideas, a constant current of thoughts, if I may 
use the expression, is made to pass through the 
mind while we are awake.’ 7 * As we have little 
power to check the current, it is extremely con¬ 
ducive to our happiness as intellectual beings, 
to take care that it be supplied from pure and 
salubrious springs. The more abundant our 
stores of useful information, the more pleasura¬ 
ble, we may reasonably expect, will be our train 
of ideas. And if we are liable to interruption 
in our thoughts, as we are from a thousand dif¬ 
ferent causes, the new channel, into which the 

* Stewart. 


14 


THE PLEASURES 


mind is directed, may be equally interesting 
and advantageous. “ Notwithstanding, how¬ 
ever, the immediate dependance of the train of 
our thoughts, on the laws of association, it must 
not be imagined, that the will possesses no in¬ 
fluence over it.”* But this influence is found to 
be very feeble, where no labour has been em¬ 
ployed in reading and reflection ; and in nothing 
is the superiority of the educated, over those 
who have made no attainments, more remarka¬ 
ble, than that they are able, in some degree, to 
controul their thoughts. Amidst the number 
which is suggested, by an acquaintance with 
history, poetry, and the different arts and sci¬ 
ences, how gratifying to be able to single out 
one of these, and to make it for a while the ob¬ 
ject of attention. By the laws to which I am 
alluding, and which are inexplicable, even by 
philosophers, the same idea is often, on separate 
occasions, presented under a variety of aspects; 
in consequence of which, if our ideas are worthy 
of contemplation, it is easy to see, what an im¬ 
mense accession may be made from this source 
alone, to our sober and rational enjoyments. 


* Stewart. 


15 


OF LITERATURE. 

The following passage, from the w T ritings of the 
celebrated Dugald Stewart, though not composed 
with a view formally to corroborate this remark, 
will, it is hoped, be considered a happy illustra¬ 
tion. “ If, for example, when I am indolent and 
inactive, the name of Sir Isaac Newton acci¬ 
dentally occur to me, it will perhaps suggest, 
one after another, the names of some other emi¬ 
nent mathematicians and astronomers, or of some 
of his illustrious contemporaries and friends: and 
a number of them may pass in review before 
me, without engaging my curiosity in any consi¬ 
derable degree. In a different state of mind, 
the name of Newton will lead my thoughts to 
the principal incidents of his life, and the 
more striking features of his character: or, if 
my mind be ardent and vigorous, will lead my 
attention to the sublime discoveries he made; 
and gradually engage me in some philosophical 
investigation. To every object, there are 
others which bear obvious and striking relations; 
and others, also, whose relation to it does not 
readily occur to us, unless we dwell upon it for 
some time, and place it before us in different 


16 


THE PLEASURES 


points of view.”* We cannot fail to be often 
struck, with the sudden and unexpected manner, 
in which some of the most splendid sentences, in 
the authors we have read, are awakened in the 
memory. The mind is, probably at the present 
moment, unconscious of any thing- important in 
the nature of its ideas ; while in the next, it may, 
without any apparent warning, be wrapt in pleas¬ 
ing astonishment, at some great event, which it 
is led to trace from its earliest beginnings, to 
the last consequence: or it may be, all at once, 
enchained by the most conclusive reasonings, or 
by the sublimest imagery. The narration of 
the simplest story, the sight of an object, the 
hearing of a particular sound, or the bare mention 
of a word, has often brought to recollection, 
passages, which have produced an elevation of 
thought and feeling, that no wealth could pur¬ 
chase, or any external dignity confer. 

It is natural to suppose the influence of these 
studies in every condition of life, would be 
powerful and extensive. “ Secundas res or- 
nant .” They diffuse a lustre over prosperity ; 
nor is this embellishment confined to the king 


* Page 297. Vol. 1. 


OF LITERATURE. 


17 


on the throne, or to the dignitaries and nobles 
of the land, but shines forth in every possessor 
of wealth, where the cultivation of them is as¬ 
sociated, with the love and practice of virtue. 
To enlarge the boundaries of knowledge; by 
means of the numerous opportunities for re¬ 
flexion, to deepen the sense of moral and intellec¬ 
tual beauty; to visit scenes and places which 
awaken classical associations; to roam amidst the 
sublime, the wonderful, and fair of Nature ; and 
to enjoy the frequent intercourse of literary 
and elegant society, are among the advantages 
which property affords. When learning and 
science are blended with riches, the means and 
facilities of beautifying the character, become 
so ample and numerous, that the most extend¬ 
ed life, could not possibly exhaust them. Not 
to insist on the spacious field, presented to the 
inquiring mind, which not only opens all the 
prospects that the senses can command, but 
which reaches to the outskirts of the universe; 
and as far as the imagination itself can travel; 
these favoured individuals have other resources, 
from which they may derive “ fresh beauty un- 


18 


THE PLEASURES 


impaired.” Nor can a happier illustration of 
this remark be found, than in the man, who de¬ 
scends from time to time, from 

“ The steep where Fame’s proud temple shines afar,” 

to bless the humble walks in life, by distributing 
his intellectual wealth; by elevating the low 
thoughts of his fellow creatures ; and by urging 
them to aspire to the dignity of his own exalted 
station. 

But while we are taught, that the endowments 
of which we are speaking, adorn prosperity, we 
learn from the same superior teacher, that they 
afford a retreat and solace to adversity. “ Ad- 
versis perfugium ac solatium prcebent. ” It is 
peculiar to this melancholy situation, to be agi¬ 
tated with a variety of perplexing incidents. 
How often is the poor man exposed to the 
frowns of friends, to the insults of foes, and 
placed in circumstances which render him liable 
to perpetual alarms. And though persons in 
adversity may, for a short season, realize an ex¬ 
emption from these distressing ills, the thought 
that thay may soon return with a more over- 


OF LITERATURE. 


19 


whelming tide, embitters the moments^of com¬ 
parative tranquillity. Anxious forebodings 
crowd in upon the mind, and thus are many 
driven from the bosom of their family, and the 
sacred sweets of the domestic circle, to lose 
their sorrows amidst scenes of dissipation and 
wanton merriment. But, “ the poor man who 
can read, and who possesses a taste for reading, 
can find entertainment at home, without being 
tempted to repair to the public house for that 
purpose. His mind can find employment when 
his body is at rest; he does not lie prostrate 
and afloat on the current of incidents, liable 
to be carried whithersoever the impulse of ap¬ 
petite may direct. There is in the mind of 
such a man, an intellectual spring urging him 
to the pursuit of mental good; and if the minds 
of his family are also a little cultivated, con- 
versation becomes the more interesting, and 
the sphere of domestic enjoyment enlarged.”* 
The pleasures of literature, in fine, are truly 
worthy of our consideration, if we reflect that 
they are co-extensive with life itself. This, it 

* Hall’s Advantages of Knowledge to the Lower Classes. 


20 


THE PLEASURES 


might be thought, is sufficient to make them pos¬ 
sess attractions, for all persons to seek the en¬ 
joyment of them, in however humble a degree. 
They are distinguished by nothing of the vexa¬ 
tion and disappointment, incident to the fluctu¬ 
ations of trade and commerce; by nothing of the 
uncertainty attendant on riches, “ which make 
to themselves wings and fly away by nothing 
of the remorse which poisons all the bliss of sen¬ 
sual indulgencies. It may be affirmed of these 
pursuits, what cannot be said with so much pro¬ 
priety of any other merely secular employ, that 
they please by anticipation ; when possessed, do 
not mock the expectations; and are followed by 
the most agreeable recollections. But these are 
the three great divisions of human happiness, or 
human sorrow, under one or other of which, we 
are seen to act our part, from the period in 
which reason first developes her energies, till 
she bends beneath the soberness of age. While 
it is the duty of every man to move in the sphere 
in which the Deity has placed him, and his 
highest praise to discharge that duty ; we may 
defy the most brilliant representations of the dra- 


OF LITERATURE. 21 

ma, to bring before us an object, equal to him, 
who, under the safeguard of religion and virtue, 
sets out, in the vernal season of life, with culti¬ 
vating his mental faculties; seizes as he ad¬ 
vances to manhood, whatever may augment his 
capacity and stores of information ; passes the 
meridian of his days with his mind in the high¬ 
est state of illumination ; and continues to emit 
rays of intellectual beauty and glory, till the 
night of death falls, and hides him for ever, 
from the view. 






































ON LEISURE. 


“ On aura peine d cam prendre comment tin eveque , d'ailleurs attentif aux be- 
soins de son tropeau, suffisoit d tant d'outrages; mais quoad le zele est 
ardent, il trouve bien des resources quo le genie seul ne decouvriroit pas. 
Monsieur de Meaux , aimoit le travail camme les an Ires aiment les repos. 
Pour lui nul delassement d’nn travail que par un autre . 

ELOGE HISTOR1QUE DE BOSSUET. 

We shall find it difficult to conceive how a prelate, besides being attentive 
to the wants of his flock, could be equal to so many undertakings; but 
when zeal is ardent, it opens many resources, which genius is unable by 
itself to discover. Bo?suet loved employment as others love repose, and 
with him the refreshment from one laborious effort, consisted in apply¬ 
ing himself to the toils of another. 


It can scarcely be imagined, any one is so 
situated, as not to have a small portion of time 
at his own command. That such a complaint is 
often urged, cannot be denied, but this is found in 
most cases to proceed from the want of prudent 
management, rather than from real necessity. 
Admitting there to be an example, in which 
no moments of leisure are able to be realized. 



24 


LEISURE. 


the person ought to be considered as an object 
of the deepest commiseration, since he is pre¬ 
cluded the means of securing for himself, a large 
portion of rational enjoyment. If however the 
daily avocations of the greater part of mankind, 
impose so heavy a tax on the mental or corpo¬ 
real faculties, as to render, for a season, intire 
relaxation from every other pursuit, indispen- 
sible; it must not be forgotten, that many en¬ 
gaged in the most busy and active scenes, fill 
up their intervals of retirement, by still more 
vigorous occupations: thus evincing how pos¬ 
sible it is for the mind, in a state of ardour, 
to overcome the resistance of even nature 
herself. Middleton records of Cicero, that it 
was frequently his practice, when disengaged 
from the labours of the forum, to walk in his 
garden, and compose some of those immortal 
works, which afford to this day, a rich repast to 
all classical scholars. Nor are we to suppose, 
this spirit which defies fatigue, this dread of the 
incursions of indolence, is confined to men of 
great genius. In every situation of life, you will 
meet with those, who are intitled to the eulo- 


LEISURE. 


25 


g’ium pronounced on the bishop of Meaux, that 
he loved employment as others loved repose, 
and that his refreshment from one laborious ex¬ 
ertion, consisted in applying himself to the fa¬ 
tigues of another. 

The time snatched from the agitations of busi¬ 
ness, and cares of the family, can, we believe, 
be devoted, in very few instances, solely to 
amusement. To this, some may be tempted to 
reply, that their diversions are innocent, that by 
this means they are better prepared for exer¬ 
tion, and that they are accountable for their time 
to none but themselves. With what compla¬ 
cency soever, such a reply may be made, no ar¬ 
guments are necessary to shew, that it is the 
language of self-indulgence, and not the voice 
of sober reason. As it is next to impossible 
for them not to be conscious, there are nobler 
pursuits in which to employ their leisure, so it 
cannot fail to be the unbiassed dictate of their 
judgment, that, by adopting a different course, 
they may extend their sphere of happiness. 
Men of this character are prone to imagine, 

that the vexations of life can be balanced only 

%> 


B 


26 


LEISURE. 



by having recourse to pleasures of a gay and 
light description. On the other hand, it is 
gratifying to remember, the number is not 
small of those, who entertain opposite senti¬ 
ments, and who, for the most part, betake 
themselves at such seasons, to contemplation, or 
the perusal of useful books, in which they find 
a peaceful calm from the tossings and tumults 
of the present scene. Fenelon, in the second 
book of the Adventures of Telemachus, intro¬ 
duces his hero, moralizing, with much elegance, 
on this subject. “ Happy they who feel no 
relish for violent pleasures, and who know how 
to content themselves, with the gentle amuse¬ 
ments of an innocent life. Happy they, whose 
diversions consist in imparting instruction to 
their own minds, and whose delight springs 
from the cultivation of the sciences. On what¬ 
ever shore they are wrecked, by the fury of an 
adverse fortune; they always carry with them 
the means of entertainment, and the painful 
disquietude which consumes other men, even 
in the midst of their luxuries, is unfelt by those 
who have learnt to exercise themselves in read- 



LEISURE. 


27 


iug. If these observations are adapted to 
such as have passed the meridian of life, or 
who are involved in the midst of its distrac¬ 
tions, they apply, with still greater force, to 
those that are fresh and vigorous with age, and 
who have hitherto experienced a happy exemp¬ 
tion from every kind of embarrassment. 
Youth is a season which scarcely admits of in¬ 
activity. In those conditions of life, which 
present the fewest claims to the attention, 
there is usually an insatiable thirst for new gra¬ 
tifications, and even where the greatest part of 
the day is spent in some necessary calling, the 
full force of the mind is preserved, for enter¬ 
tainment in the evening. The present age is 
not more prolific in useful and elegant inven¬ 
tions, than is the youthful mind, in seeking for 
amusement during the hours of leisure. 

* u Heureux, disois-je, ceux qui se degoutent des plai- 
sirs violens, et qui savent se contenter des douceurs d’une 
vie innocente! Heureux ceux qui se divertissent en s’in- 
struisant, et qui se plaisent a cultiver leur esprit par les 
sciences ! En quelque endroit que la fortune ennemie les 
jette, ils portent toujours avec eux de quoi s'entretenir ; et 
1’ennui, qui devore les autres homines au milieu meme des 
delices, est inconnu d ceux qui savent s’occuper par quelque 
lecture.” 

B 2 


LEISURE. 


28 

Ambulator is a young man of excellent 
talents, and good moral character. He left the 
parental roof amidst the prayers and benedic¬ 
tions of the family. He was articled to a pro¬ 
fessional gentleman, and he is punctual in 
discharging every duty to the satisfaction of his 
employer. But he has acquired the habit of 
leaving home, as soon as the pursuits of busi¬ 
ness are closed, and of consuming too many 
hours in the exercise of walking. Through 
long custom, it is difficult to prevail upon him 
to spend his time in more manly pursuits; and 
you may generally meet him, if the weather be 
serene, perambulating the fields, and other ac¬ 
customed haunts. Comes, though not inferior 
in displaying the charms of virtue, thinks it im¬ 
material, whether he continues at home, or 
walks abroad, provided he be always in society. 
Retirement and solitude are terms which pall 
upon his feelings, and he would rather the fa¬ 
tigues of business should be lengthened to 
“midnight deep,” than devote himself to such 
undertakings as would require him to be alone, 
when he may enjoy his liberty. Poetaster is of 


LEISURE. 


2 <) 


a different turn of mind. His principle delight 
consists, when released from the calls of duty, 
in making verses. His cabinet is filled with 
poets of all descriptions ; and though Milton, 
Thompson, Cowper, and others of the same or¬ 
der of genius, lie on his shelves, covered with 
dust, he is very assiduous in reading the com¬ 
positions of a different class, and in imitating 
those who have received the appellation of ma¬ 
gazine poets. Stridens professes to have a 
taste for music. He was early captivated by 
the sounds of the flute and of the violin. It is, 
however, proper to state, that he is but little 
susceptible of the power of harmony, evinces 
no disgust at hearing a discordant note, and 
never thinks of studying music as a science. 
But he siezes every opportunity of enjoying 
what he deems to be his sole delight, and that 
he may incommode no member of the family, 
he repairs to the most remote part of the house, 
to regale his ears with the tones of his favourite 
instruments. 

Nothing is farther from my intention, than to 
represent these amusements as strictly impro- 


30 


LEISURE. 


per, or, to maintain the egregious absurdity, 
that relaxation is unnecessary. All that I 
mean to intimate, is, that we may secure the 
blessing of health, and at the same time, employ 
our leisure in a more excellent manner. They 
w ho have been indulged with a liberal educa¬ 
tion, can be at no loss for objects, to which 
they may direct their attention. A few mo¬ 
ments of serious reflection, are sufficient to 
enable them to make their selection, and to 
form their plan. Where these advantages 
have not been enjoyed, circumstances, it will 
be confessed, are, in some respects, different. 

Many young persons now engaged in mer¬ 
cantile employments, waste, in a great degree, 
the precious moments to which we are alluding, 
in consequence of not having undergone a 
course of mental discipline and instruction in 
their earlier years. Though possessed of much 
constitutional ardour and acuteness of intellect, 
a variety of habits, unfriendly to mental cultiva¬ 
tion, has been induced ; and from this circum¬ 
stance, as well as from the want of information, 
how to proceed, they are driven to recreations 


LEISURE. 


31 


but little adapted to their age and prospects. 
Among this most interesting part of the com¬ 
munity, there are often found those, who not 
only consider the absence of solid attainments, 
a grievous calamity, but whose passions, soar¬ 
ing above their disadvantages, are intent on 
some literary acquisitions. Far from meeting 
with the utmost tenderness, and being encour¬ 
aged for their laudable ambition, it is sometimes 
their misfortune to experience opposite treat¬ 
ment. Having understood the fairest flowers 
of learning are to be plucked in the classic re¬ 
gions, they have eagerly commenced the s tudy 
of the Latin or Greek language; and as this 
has not been cultivated by their friends or pa¬ 
trons, they are conjured, as they value their 
comfort and reputation, to abandon a task to 
which they are not equal, and in which, there¬ 
fore, they will never excel. The knowledge 
they are recommended to acquire, neither ac- 
cords with their taste, nor promises a sufficient 
recompense for the necessary application; thus 
they are obliged to retire into still deeper ob¬ 
scurity, with the reward of being considered 


32 LEISURE. 

miserable pedants, for the noble aspirings which 
they have in vain displayed. 

Instead of cooling an ardour of mind, which 
seems capable of more than ordinary exertions, 
many deem it a wiser method, to cherish the 
flame, urging, at the same time, a vigilant at¬ 
tention to every superior call. The slightest 
acquaintance with biography, cannot fail to 
supply abundant examples of distinguished 
scholars, and members of society, who, in the 
outset of their career, were so far from enjoy¬ 
ing the benefit of academical instruction, that 
the greater portion of their time was occupied 
in the pursuits of business. Granville Sharp, 
eminent for his critical skill in Greek and He¬ 
brew, and for other brilliant acquirements, laid 
the foundation of his future greatness, by de¬ 
voting his leisure hours to study, while situated 
in a linen warehouse on Tower-hill. Where an 
attention to these studies, is accompanied with 
the neglect of duty, the literary passion ought 
to be suppressed; but it is surely proper to 
pause awhile, before any attempt is made to 
discourage, where no such neglect is apparent. 


LEISURE. 33 

and under a conviction, that the energy exhi¬ 
bited, may, in all probability, conduct to emi¬ 
nence. Such a measure would be little better 
than to impede the progress of the human cha¬ 
racter.* 

* These persons are, moreover, deterred from the prosecu¬ 
tion of their favourite study, for want of free access to those 
privileged individuals, who are qualified to assist them, in 
the acquisition of classical learning. Many have consi¬ 
dered it a fault, which attaches to a great number of the 
literati of this country, that they are not liberal in diffusing 
the knowledge and elegance, which they have acquired. 
Content to enjoy alone, their exquisite pleasures, or to min¬ 
gle with such as are rated to the same degree of eminence, 
they have little inclination to think, there may be in their 
immediate neighbourhood, minds of a kindred order, pant¬ 
ing to obtain the same information, and to bathe in the same 
brilliancy. It affords me peculiar pleasure, to be able to 
introduce on this occasion, the words of a very distinguished 
scholar and divine, the Rev. Dr. Smith of Homerton. The 
following passage is a quotation from his Manual of Latin 
Grammar, in which he is proposing a plan for the acquisi¬ 
tion of that language to a person of neglected education. 
“Ifhe is not acquainted with the process of parsing, let 
him not hesitate to ask the instruction of any competent per¬ 
son in his neighbourhood; for that man deserves not the 
name of a scholar or of a gentleman, who would not readily 
devote an hour to such a purpose.” It may be affirmed of 
learned men, what Bossuet remarks in a beautiful passage, 
with respect to kings, “that they have not, any more than 
the sun, received in vain, the lustre which surrounds them.?”* 
As nothing could tend more effectually, to give a free circula- 

* “ Lcs rois non plusque le solei 1, n’ont pas re^u en vain l’eclat qui les 
environne."— Oraison Funebre de Marie Therese d'Autriche. 

B 3 


34 


LEISURE. 

But all persons of leisure have not a taste for 
the learned languages, and the preceding obser¬ 
vations have not been made with a view to urge 
the cultivation of them, unless there be a settled 
predilection for the undertaking, and a satisfied 
assurance of possessing a high degree of patience 
and perseverance. There are other numerous 
stores whence we mav derive amusement and 
instruction. We may enter the temple of sci¬ 
ence, without the guidance of Homer and Vir¬ 
gil. Though acquainted with no other lan¬ 
guage than our own, it is possible to appreciate 
the value of history; to relish the beauties of 
genuine poetry; to descend to the depths of 
mental philosophy; and to enter into the sub¬ 
lime abstractions of the “awful ” Newton. 

tion to substantial knowledge, in the different towns and 

cities throughout the kingdom, than two or three large and 

liberal minds, resident there, uniting for that purpose ; so 

the conduct, here commended, has been adopted in several 

populous places. And what do we behold? not merely the 

gigantic efforts of genius, and the wonders of art, but the 

increase of means, for the promotion of human happiness. 

The most distant posterity will turn towards each projector 

of these noble schemes, a reverential eye, while they will be 

ever copious in speaking of his praises. 

“Dum jugamontisaper, fluvios dum piscis amabit 

Dumque thymo pascentur apes, dum rore cicadae 

Semper honosnomenque tumn, laudesque manebunt.”— Virgil. 


LEISURE. »35 

It is not, however, the design of the present 
discussion, to enumerate the objects on which 
we may profitably employ our moments of re¬ 
laxation ; much less to select one or more from 
the infinite multitude which presents itself. 
Let it be deemed sufficient to observe on this 
head, that provided the duties of life be dis¬ 
charged, we may calculate with certainty, on 
improvement and satisfaction, whatever be the 
object of our choice. 

The author wishes it to be distinctly under¬ 
stood, that it is far from his intention to insinuate, 
that the subject, upon which he is remarking, is 
general in its application. The spare time of 
many, he is fully sensible, [is employed to great 
advantage. But it is undeniable, there are 
others, who are themselves, conscious of mis- 
improving the hours of leisure. The evil to 
which I am referring, and of which they are 
the soonest to complain, proceeds, not so much 
from a spirit of indolence, or unconcern, as 
from other causes; and it may be worth while 
just to notice some of them before we put a 
final period to these observations. “The time 


36 


LEISURE. 


for making literary acquisitions is past. 5 ’ That 
literary eminence does not always arise from 
early advantages, we have already seen; nor 
could any thing be more easy, than to add a 
very lengthened catalogue to the name which 
has been mentioned. But this is a distinction 
by no means necessary, and he who should 
abandon all thoughts of improvement, through 
despair of reaching the pinnacle of fame, is not 
the character for whom these pages are design¬ 
ed. It is surely never too late to attempt any 
thing, which may contribute to our advantage. 

No man of sober reflection, can imagine the 
season to be passed, in which, by accumulating 
his stores of information, he may augment his 
happiness, and render his usefulness more ex¬ 
tensive. The question is not, what opportuni¬ 
ties are lost; but what advantages may be 
gained: not whether, the morning of our days 
be gone; but whether much ground may not be 
recovered, before the evening of life collects 
its shades around us. The merchant seldom 
abates in his ardour, for the accumulation of 
riches, because he perceives many of his years 


LEISURE. 


37 


have elapsed; oil the contrary, he considers 
this circumstance, as an incentive to more vi¬ 
gorous exertions, and every one applauds his 
zealous efforts in providing for the tranquillity 
and comfort of old age, if they are not tinctured 
with avarice. But is there no other means of 
support during that dreary period, besides 
what may he derived from pecuniary resources ? 
Does mental affluence diminish in its value, in 
proportion as youthful animation and manly 
vigour subside. There is not a more affecting 
contrast than that which is exhibited to us, by 
two men, with “ locks all hoary grey;” the one 
enriched with knowledge, the other enveloped 
in gross ignorance. By the former, we are re¬ 
minded of a “ noble tree, with all its sap and 
verdure, with extended boughs and rich fo¬ 
liage.”* The latter may be compared to a bar¬ 
ren wild, impervious to the industry of man, to 
the genial influence of the sun, and to the dews 
of heaven. The proper use to be made of these 
considerations, is, to turn the present moments 
to the best account; to apply with fixed resolu- 
* Hall’s Character of Robinson. 


38 


LEISURE. 


tion to the work of self-instruction ; and as we 
are all anticipating the melancholy season of 
old age, to lay the securest foundation for its 
solace and support. The poor man who pos¬ 
sesses vigour, should especially lay this to 
heart; since he who descends into the vale of 
life, with neither property nor information, of¬ 
ten sinks beneath the weight of suffering, and 
lies neglected and unknown; while he who 
comes to grey hairs, laden with the spoils which 
time cannot desolate, is seldom found to witness 
the horrors, which are otherwise inseparable 
from that condition 

“The memory, and other powers of the 
mind, it is urged, have lost the tone and vigour 
requisite to insure success. During their more 
early years, the persons in question, felt it to be 
an easy task to fill the mind with useful lessons, 
and agreeable ideas, and could the same under¬ 
taking be accomplished now , with equal facility, 
they are apt to imagine, none would enter upon 
it more readily than themselves. But, alas! the 
recollective faculty is become treacherous; the 
acquisitions of yesterday are partly forgotten to 




LEISURE. 


39 


day; the attention is not sufficiently awake; 
and so deep is their conviction of the feebleness 
of their intellectual character and habits, that 
they are compelled to relinquish the at¬ 
tempt. It is unfortunate the mind should open 
to receive impressions of the necessity and va¬ 
lue of information, with the accompanying 
thought that it has lost the capacity of acquir¬ 
ing it;—that the thick mists of error and igno¬ 
rance should have settled upon it so long, as 
almost to preclude it from emerging into the 
brightness of truth and knowledge. And why, 
it may be asked, should this injurious thought, 
be allowed to associate with these impressions ? 
Let the experiment be tried, whether the infe¬ 
rence of incompetency, from this merely acci¬ 
dental association, be not altogether premature. 
Examine, whether, after all, there do not lie 
buried deep within the bosom, resources whence 
means may be derived, of renovating the facul¬ 
ties ; and of compensating for the loss of youth¬ 
ful advantages, by summoning from the inmost 
recesses of the soul, an energy unknown before. 
It is a trite but important maxim, that we are 


/ 


40 LEISURE. 

unable to tell what we can achieve, till our 
powers are put to the trial; nor can any 
plausible pretext be given, why this may not be 
adopted in every period of life. 

But the greatest impediment, probably, is 
that which arises from the want of opportunity. 
44 The engagements of the day,” it is remarked, 
“ occupy nearly the whole of the attention, and 
what can be done, during the short interval 
which elapses, before retiring to rest ?” It re¬ 
quires but little exertion, and a very small con¬ 
sumption of time, to become acquainted with 
that of which we were ignorant before; and 
from repeated efforts, though of short continu¬ 
ance, great accessions may soon be derived to 
our intellectual wealth. Besides which, the 
pleasure resulting from the conduct now under 
consideration, would induce the inquiry, whe¬ 
ther by employing a moderate share of sagacity, 
the seasons for improvement, might not be 
greatly multiplied. 

After the most impartial consideration of 
their intellectual prowess, some have arrived at 
the unhappy conclusion, of not possessing forti- 


LEISURE. 


41 


tude enough to surmount these obstacles: 
others have nobly struggled, and realized such 
attainments as surpass their most sanguine ex¬ 
pectations. “ Let them persevere in this wor¬ 
thy self-discipline, appropriate to the introduc¬ 
tion of an endless mental life. Let them go on 
to complete the proof how much a mind incited 
to a high purpose, may triumph over a depres¬ 
sion of its external condition;—but solemnly 
taking care, that all their improvements may 
tend to such a result, that at length the rigour 
of their lot, and the confinement of mortality 
itself, bursting at once from around them, may 
give them to those intellectual revelations, that 
everlasting sun-light of the soul, in which the 
truly wise will expand all their faculties in a 
happier economy.”* 

* Foster’s Essay on Popular Ignorauce. 


ON EDUCATION. 


The most essential objects of education are the two following. First, to 
cultivate all the various principles of our nature, both speculative and 
active, in such a manner as to bring them to the greatest perfection of 
which they are susceptible; and, secondly, by watching over the im¬ 
pressions and associations which the miud receives in early life, to 
secure itagainst the influence of prevailing errors; and, as far as possible, 
to engage its prepossessions on tne side of truth. 

Durjald Stewart's Philosophy of the Human Mind. 


One of the first things which strike the mind 
on entering on this subject, is, that education 
has never been with us, a national concern. 
We have, indeed, heard of national schools; 
but neither the system peculiar to these, nor 
any other that could be mentioned, exhibits 
such a method of instruction, as shews it to be 
an affair of state. With the ancient Persians, 
as well as with the Spartans, we know it was 
otherwise: and though there are many portions 
in their histories which fix the attention, none 
excite deeper interest, than the passages that 



EDUCATION. 


43 


relate to the institutions adopted to promote 
the education of every youth, within their do¬ 
minions. Xenophon informs us, that the chil¬ 
dren of the Persians were instructed in justice, 
temperance, and other kindred virtues, similar 
to the manner in which those of the Greeks 
were taught letters.* 

In England, the tuition of the young, regards 
them as intellectual, rather than as accountable, 
beings; and that seminary is considered the 
best, and the most deserving of popularity, 
which affords the amplest scope for the de- 
velopement of the mental faculties, and for the 
supply of various knowledge. On no subject is 
there a greater contrariety in speculation and 
practice, than that to which 1 am now en¬ 
gaging the attention of my reader. It extends 
to the earliest years, and to the first rudiments. 
A disposition seems to prevail, for tearing up 
the old systems of instruction by the roots, as 
being ill adapted to the refinement of the pre- 

* O i /ifv 8ij TTcudeg tig ra diScuTicaXua <poiTa>vrtg, cia - 
yovffi fmvOavovrsg Succuocrvvriv’ icai Xeyovaiv on t7ri tovto 
ip\ovTai, oxr-rrtp Trap’ rj/uv oi ra y pa/x/Jiara \iadr)Goptvoi ; 
k.t.X. —De Cyri Institutione, Lib. I. 


44 


EDUCATION. 


sent times, however they may have accorded 
with the Gothic barbarity of preceding ages. 

But while the author makes these observa¬ 
tions, he is sensible they do not apply, in all 
their force, to the common branches of learning. 
With respect to reading, writing, and casting up 
accounts, he is not aware, that any essential 
alteration could be made in the method, which 
has been generally adopted. Where a liberal 
education is intended to be given, the subject 
assumes a different aspect, and is one, con¬ 
fessedly, of great importance. The view of it, 
which has of late years engaged the public 
mind, seems to embrace, not more the advan¬ 
tages accruing to the individual and the com¬ 
munity, than the objects which employ the pupil’s 
attention, and the manner in which he occupies 
his time, while at school. It has ever been 
deemed by enlightened nations, the wisest me¬ 
thod to initiate those, designed for the profes¬ 
sions, or for some commanding station, into an 
acquaintance with classical learning. Accor¬ 
dingly, as soon as the memory, and other facul¬ 
ties of the mind, appear equal to the task, the 


EDUCATION. 


45 


youth is put to the study of the Latin Grammar. 
Previous to the time, in which Mr. Locke wrote 
his treatise on Education, most of the rules in 
etymology, and syntax were required to be 
perfectly known, before any significant attempts 
were made in construing. And even though 
other speculations of that distinguished man, 
gave a new direction to the philosophical world, 
and controlled its opinions for nearly a century, 
his plan of teaching Latin has not been exten¬ 
sively followed. It was the opinion of Mr. 
Locke, that grammar ought not, in the first 
instance, to be made an object of study, but 
that the pupil should be taught the language, 
by conversation with the master, or by means of 
very literal translations from the easiest 
authors.* The course recommended by the 
learned and pious Dr. Watts, though different 
from the one we have now mentioned, is at 
variance with that pursued in most of our public 
seminaries. “At the same time, when you 
begin the rules, begin also the practice: as for 
instance, when you decline, musa, imisa, read 
* See Treatise on Education. 


40 


EDUCATION. 


and construe the same day, some easy Latin 
author, by the help.of the Tutor, or with some 
English translation.”* This latter method has 
coincided much more with popular feeling than 
the former. The necessity of an acquaintance 
with grammar, first of all, has appeared so self- 
evident, that scarcely any facilities for the ac¬ 
quisition of the ancient language of Italy 
have harmonized with Mr. Locke's plan, ex¬ 
cepting the system lately published by Mr. 
Hamilton. As far as relates to the practice of 
declining one or more nouns of the same class, 
with that committed to memory, Dr. Watts’s 
method, cannot fail to recommend itself to 
every unbiassed judgment; for the simple 
reason, that the nature of the declension is 
more likely to be understood. Nevertheless, 
some objections present themselves, with respect 
to the propriety of beginning immediately to 
translate. In entering on a new object of study, 
the mind does not open all at once, to receive 
the light which is communicated. It looks at 
every thing as through a mist; and let the in- 
* Improvement of the Mind. 


EDUCATION. 


47 


structions of the tutor be ever so luminous, he 
finds, by painful experience, something ever 
more intervening betwixt himself and the pupils 
understanding, to render them almost impalpa¬ 
ble. “ This to me” remarks Dr. Felton, “ is a 
demonstration, that we are capable of little else 
than words, till twelve or thirteen.”* Many 
teachers are of opinion, that the better method 
of proceeding is, to lead the first class, through 
the Eton Latin Grammar, once or twice, as 
far as to the end of the concords. Then to 
make it learn, still in English, the special rules 
for the genders, and some of the principal ones 
in syntax. By this time, it is quite prepared 
to begin with Valpy’s Delectus; a publication 
which of itself, qualifies to commence the usual 
course of reading in the Latin authors. 

The propriety of learning the grammar rules 

* “ But this to me is demonstration, that vve are capable 
of little else than words, till twelve or thirteen, if you will 
observe, that a boy shall be able to repeat his grammar over, 
two or three years before his understanding opens enough 
to let him into the reason and clear apprehension of the 
rules; and when this is done, sooner or later, it ceaseth to 
be cant and jargon.” Dissertation on Reading the Classics , 
by Henry Felton , D, D. 


48 


EDUCATION. 


in Latin, has often been called in question. 
Mr. Locke and Dr. Watts, were so far from 
being alone in their violent opposition to the 
practice, that thousands of the present day, are 
ready to join them, hand and heart, in this con¬ 
troversy. If, as some suppose, the Latin is 
taught, without any regard to the meaning, 
nothing can be conceived more revolting to 
common sense, because no preparation is 
made on this plan, for the exercise of con¬ 
struing. But if, when the learner has acquired a 
perfect knowledge of the accidence, he be made 
at each lesson to repeat, as he proceeds with his 
translations, a few rules in Latin (accurately 
understood) till the whole be finished, might not 
this be considered, as greatly accelerating his 
progress ? By this means, he obtains a copious 
supply of words; and has the principles more 
deeply imprinted on the memory, in consequence 
of learning them in two languages, instead of 
one. More than all, the variety of examples in¬ 
troduced, brings him acquainted with the style 
of the different authors, and with some of their 
peculiar idioms, while it furnishes him with a 


EDUCATION. 


49 


key to unlock the mysteries attendant on trans¬ 
lation. 

When a perfect knowledge of the grammar is 
acquired, ought the scholar to be assisted, by 
having literal translations before him, or be left 
to make out the sense, by the help of the dictio¬ 
nary, before he appears in the class? Dr. Gold¬ 
smith tells us, # that it was common in his time, 
to teach the learned languages, agreeably to 
the former plan: and it is well known, that 
before the period in which he flourished, Mr. 
Clarke, master of a public school at Hull, had 
made several of these translations, and advo¬ 
cated the practice with all the ardour of a par- 

* “ As I deliver ray thoughts without method or con¬ 
nexion, so the reader must not be surprised to find me once 
more addressing schoolmasters on the present method of 
teaching the learned languages, which is commonly by lite¬ 
ral translations. I would ask such, if they were to travel 
a journey, whether those parts of the road in which they 
found the greatest difficulties, would not be the most 
strongly remembered ? Boys, who, if I may continue the 
allusion, gallop through one of the ancients with the assist¬ 
ance of a translation, can have but a very slight acquaint¬ 
ance, either with the author, or his language. It is by the 
exercise of the mind alone, that a language is learned.” 

Essay on Education , 

C 


50 


EDUCATION. 


tisan. Several have complained of this method, 
as promising more than it actually accomplishes. 
Partly through the natural inaptitude of the 
mind to severe application, and partly from the 
facility, with which they could follow the mean¬ 
ing of the author, by looking at the opposite 
column, they found their advances to be too 
rapid, and that it was requisite to retrace their 
steps, in order to become accurate. The effect 
produced, in ascertaining the sense of a word, 
from these books, was essentially different from 
what they felt, when searching for it in the dic¬ 
tionary. Here, it stood alone, and could not 
possibly prejudge their minds, as to the full 
force, and meaning of the author; here, in every 
instance, it formed the part of a proposition, 
and they were led passively along, by the inter¬ 
pretation. Thus were they induced to throw 
aside, what they deemed to be second-hand 
performances; to act without independance in 
the affair, and, following the advice of the great 
parent of Roman oratory, to ascend at once to 
the original .^-“Meos cimicos in quibns est stu- 
(lium . Jubeo, ut d fontibus potius hciuriant, 


EDUCATION. 


51 


quam rivulos consectentur .”*■—It is necessary to 
inform some of my readers, that the translations 
lately published by Mr. Hamilton, are of a very 
different description; so much so, that it is pos¬ 
sible for him, who approves of these compositions, 
to pronouuce an unqualified condemnation, on 
those of Mr. Clarke. The latter was no farther 
literal, than was compatible with the vernacular 
tongue. If he did not aim at being elegant, he 
made it his endeavour, to express the idea, in 
good and perspicuous English. With the for¬ 
mer, an attention to the genius of our language, 
is a circumstance of no consideration. Whether 
he makes sense or nonsense, the pupil is re¬ 
quired to construe after him exactly, not only 
according to the real signification of the word, 
but according to the various inflections of case, 
number, mood, and tense. As the labours of 
this gentleman have excited much attention, 
and drawn forth, from certain quarters, con¬ 
siderable applause, the author hopes he shall 
be pardoned, if he extends the present dis¬ 
cussion, to a somewhat greater length. In 


* Cicero, Acad. 1, 2. 

C 2 


52 


EDUCATION. 


the effort to acquire a truly liberal education, 
every thing, is, for the most part, subordinated 
to olassical studies. 

Mr. Hamilton’s method of teaching langua¬ 
ges, then, is to begin immediately, by making 
the pupil read from his dictation, a certain por¬ 
tion of an author, several times over, till the 
meaning of each word is perfectly understood. 
He defers the study of grammar, till a consider¬ 
able store of words and phrases is treasured in 
the memory. Neither lexicons, grammar, nor 
exercises are admitted a place in his academy, 
during the early stages of tuition. The boy is 
required to do nothing but in connection with 
the master. After an extensive supply of 
words is obtained, some instructions are given, 
with respect to the cases of nouns, and the 
tenses of verbs, but not to be gotten by heart. 
Proceeding on this plan, Mr. Hamilton pro¬ 
poses to accomplish in six months, what requires 
nearly the same number of years to complete, 
even in our head schools. 

The scheme is visionary, some are ready to 
remark, and plainly impossible. Mr. H. would, 


EDUCATION. 


53 


however, lay before them, what he considers to 
be unquestionable evidence. But, excellent as 
this system is thought to be, and though great. 
success may have already attended its adoption, 
it would, 1 apprehend, be uncandid in its warm¬ 
est abettors to maintain, that it is so far unex¬ 
ceptionable, as to preclude all speculation on 
the subject. It is considered as a recent in¬ 
vention, and is contemplated with all the tur¬ 
bulence and agitation inseparable from a new 
discovery. We must wait till the mental com¬ 
motion has subsided ; till the judgment gives its 
decisions in the solemn stillness of a calm. The 
short time which has elapsed, since the plan 
was first put into operation, prevents its col¬ 
lateral or remote advantages from being known. 
Nor can any one, with propriety, assert, that it 
is adorned with laurels as unfading as those of 
the old system, before it produces scholars, 
equal for skill in criticism; for eloquence in 
oratory; for depth and precision in philosophy. 
While it is recommended by the proofs which 
it affords, of industry on the part of the master, 
and application in the student; by the facilities 


54 


EDUCATION. 


which it gives to a greater number of persons, 
to read the classics, as an uneducated English¬ 
man would read Milton ; there are who view it, 
as essentially defective, in consequence of bring¬ 
ing but few faculties of the mind into lively 
operation. The attention is indeed awakened; 
but little opportunity is given to enlighten the 
understanding, to inform the judgment, and to 
exercise the powers of invention and research. 
“To instruct youth in the languages, and in the 
sciences, is comparatively of little importance, 
if they are inattentive to the habits they ac¬ 
quire ; and are not careful in giving to all 
their different faculties, and all their different 
principles of action, a proper degree of employ¬ 
ment. Abstracting entirely from the culture 
of their moral powers, how extensive and diffi¬ 
cult is the business of conducting their intel¬ 
lectual improvement :■—to watch over the asso¬ 
ciations which they form in their tender years ; 
to give them early habits of mental activity; to 
rouse their curiosity, and to direct it to proper 
objects; to exercise their ingenuity and inven¬ 
tion ; to cultivate in their minds a turn for 


EDUCATION. 


55 

speculation, and, at the same time, preserve 
their attention alive to the objects around them; 
to awaken their sensibilities to the beauties of 
nature, and to inspire them with a relish for 
intellectual enjoyments.”* Although the author 
is apprehensive he may fatigue the patience of 
the reader, there are other topics, connected 
with education, which he cannot persuade him¬ 
self to overlook. The attempt to remove the 
ancient landmarks; to dissipate and consign to 
the winds, the constitutions of “ by gone ages,” 
has not been attended with pure, unmingled 
advantages. When Euclid replied to a certain 
monarch, “that there was no royal road to 
geometry,” it is presumed, he intended princes 
must proceed by the same steps as their sub¬ 
jects, in the acquisition of that noble sciepce. 
The spirit of the mathematician’s remark seems 
to be, that no solid attainments can be made 
without constant und vigorous application. Had 
he lived in these days, he would have found a 
large proportion of the teachers ol mankind, 
but ill-prepared to coalesce with his sentiments. 

* Dugald Stewart’s Philosophy of the Mind. 


56 


EDUCATION. 


Almost every writer is aiming to facilitate the 
studies of youth ; and not a few seem intent on 
conducting them from the base to the summit 
of Parnassus, with little concern, apparently, 
how r they proceed through the intermediate 
spaces. New school books are pouring in upon 
us from every direction; and no sooner is one 
adopted, than another is announced as having 
loftier pretensions. The effect has been, no 
doubt, to bewilder the minds of a certain class 
of preceptors: and whilst these have felt em¬ 
barrassed in the midst of so many untried and 
imposing treatises and systems; the lovers of 
the beaten track, have made considerable pro¬ 
gress in their endeavours to expand the powers, 
and increase the knowledge of the rising gene¬ 
ration. They, who, through being endowed 
with brilliant talents and superior learning, are 
able to bring philosophy to bear on the work of 
teaching, will not be thought liable, though in 
the midst of an educational convulsion, to com¬ 
mit any serious error. To such as are not thus 
indulged, great caution is undeniably requisite, 
least they should infuse principles and habits. 


EDUCATION. 57 

tending 1 to blight the intellectual and moral 
growth of their young and tender charge. 

It. is a question of great pith and moment 
with some, whether boys ought to be made ac¬ 
quainted with the causes of things. Dr. Gold¬ 
smith maintains that it is improper. 4 ‘We 
should early, therefore, instruct them,’’ he re¬ 
marks, “in the experiments, if I may so express 
it, of knowledge, and leave to maturer age, the 
accounting for the causes.” * Before this can 
be accomplished, is it not necessary to banish 
from the schools, every object of study calcu¬ 
lated to cherish the spirit of inquiry ? It is 
sufficiently apparent from the preceding ob¬ 
servations, that the old method of learning 
languages—a method, be it remembered, which 
the Doctor strongly recommends, is much 
adapted to produce an inquisitive turn of mind. 
The course of parsing, through which the pupil 
is conducted, necessitates him to account for 
the reasons of construction. Of mathematical 
studies, it may be affirmed, that, inasmuch as 
they strengthen the reasoning faculties, and 

* Essav on Education. 

c 3 


58 


EDUCATION, 


are conversant with demonstration, and other 
kinds of evidence, they naturally lead the mind 
to trace effects to their causes. To say nothing 
of Latin or Greek, let a youth be suffered to 
advance only a little way in pure geometry and 
equations, and though you should be continual¬ 
ly exposing wonders to his view, no kind of dis¬ 
cipline or punishment will hinder him from 
inquiring, not, indeed, like the Athenians, is 
there any thing new ? but what were the causes 
which gave rise to such phenomena? By de¬ 
voting much time to the inculcation of princi¬ 
ples, it may be objected, that little opportunity 
is afforded to the mind to enlarge its acquaint¬ 
ance with facts. But if, as Dr. Beattie ob¬ 
serves, “man was not sent into the world to 
speak every languageso neither is it neces¬ 
sary, that he should know all the strange 
appearances in art or nature. A few things 
accurately understood, give a keener edge to 
the intellectual faculties, than many which are 
but imperfectly known ; and it is in this way, 
the surest foundation is laid, for future emi¬ 
nence and success. It is not a little remarkable. 


EDUCATION. 


59 


that the theory of Goldsmith, is so far from 
being in accordance with the feelings of parents 
in general, that their countenances are never 
more lighted lip with joy, than when their child¬ 
ren are able to give for every “ why ” which 
may be proposed, a satisfactory “ whereforp.” 

Nothing is more worthy the consideration of 
those to whom the care of youth is committed, 
than whether it be not better to err on the side 
of defect than of excess, in communicating in¬ 
struction. It seems, indeed, to be the opinion 
of some in these enlightened ages, that a master 
ought to be competent to teach, not only three 
or four languages, but also the mathematics, 
natural and experimental philosophy, logic, 
rhetoric, declamation, and the elegant accom¬ 
plishments. These are the fruits, all weighty 
and oppressive as they are, which “ the tender 
shoot’ 7 is expected to produce, and without 
which, he who is employed in the cultivation 
of it, is suspected to be ignorant of his art. 
Notwithstanding he that attempts all this on 
the mind of a youth, whose studies are to be 


60 


EDUCATION. 


completed at the age of fourteen or fifteen, 
may justly be charged with the want of expe¬ 
rience in the work of teaching ; with an igno¬ 
rance of the juvenile capacity, and of the time 
requisite to make these great attainments. 

In a discussion professing to allude to the 
principal objects which engage the attention 
while at school, a remark or two may be ex¬ 
pected to be made, with respect to the French 
language. To shew the necessity of an ac¬ 
quaintance with that tongue in the present 
improved state of society, would be to trifle 
with the reader’s understanding; nor is any 
argument necessary to prove, that it may be 
acquired with greater facility and perfection 
in the country where it is spoken, than in a 
foreign land. That it may be understood to a 
tolerable degree of accuracy, without these ad¬ 
vantages, is well known. At the same time, 
so great is the disproportion in the knowledge 
which many have of French, when compared 
with the expence and toil consumed in the 
study of it, that some defect seems to attach to 


EDUCATION. 


()1 


the method of teaching 1 it. Most of our semi¬ 
naries wisely employ a native teacher, and 
think his presence in the class twice a week, 
often enough, to enable the pupils to realize 
the intended object. Now, provided they, on 
whom the management of their education chief¬ 
ly depends, take care that a portion of their at¬ 
tention shall be almost daily devoted to this 
branch of learning, what can be wanting to the 
perfection of this system ? The Frenchman is 
necessary only for conversation, and for the 
purpose of giving a correct accent; since it 
will be readily allowed, that remarks on the 
grammar and idiom of a language, slide with 
greater facility into the youthful mind, from 
one of his own nation, than from the lips of a 
foreigner. But where the tuition of the 
French is left solely to the native teacher, cir- 
cumstances are, in some respects, altered. In 
most cases it is found, that he is very imper¬ 
fectly acquainted with our language. Pluming 
himself on the superiority of his own, he con¬ 
siders the English as barbarous, and pays it no 


62 


EDUCATION. 


further attention, than is necessary to qualify 
him, with great difficulty, to communicate his 
ideas. This, together with the aversion of boys 
to grammar and exercises, not to say, to their 
outlandish pedagogue, promises but little im¬ 
provement from his instructions; and the time 
which elapses, before a fresh lesson is given, 
partly obliterates the one already acquired. An 
acquaintance, therefore, with some of the col¬ 
loquial phrases, and with one or two of the easy 
authors, is the utmost of what we ought to ex¬ 
pect from pupils, who leave these establish¬ 
ments. 

The author has made no reference to disci¬ 
pline or punishment. He remembers being 
greatly amused in reading, among other curious 
things which Boswell relates of Dr. Johnson, 
that he considered, “the backs of the Saxon 
descendants made to receive stripes.” He who 
felt no hesitation in striking a man to the 
ground, with a ponderous folio, would not be 
likely to wield the rod over children with the 
hand of a father. But if this treatment savours 


EDUCATION. 


63 


too much of severity, that to which Horace al¬ 
ludes in the following lines, is not more effica¬ 
cious : 

“Thus teachers bribe their boys with figs and cake 

To mind their books.”* 

Creech,. 

In this, as in every other line of human con¬ 
duct, the safe path seems to lie betwixt the two 
extremes. 

*-“ Ut pueris olim dant crustulablandi 

Doctores, alementa velint, ut discere prima.” 

Horace, Serm. Lib. 1 , 1 . 














ON READING. 




“Inter cuncta leges , el percuntabere doctos, 

Qua ratione queas traducere leniter aevum." 

Horae. Epist. lib. 1, IS 

“ Consult with care the learned page ; 

Inquire of every scienc’d sage, 

How you may glide with gentle ease 
Adown the current of your days.” 

Francis. 

There is not a more pleasing and evident 
proof of the advancement of society, than that 
taste for reading and knowledge, which now so 
extensively prevails. It is easy to turn to 
periods in our history, in which a feeling of this 
sort, was confined to a very limited number, and 
when a great majority of the community, were 
satisfied to be covered with the dismal veil of 
ignorance. We may, it is probable, when perus¬ 
ing an interesting narrative of the scenes and 
events of past ages, be conscious of a momentary 
wish, that we had been spectators. But none 



66 


READING. 


can deny, that we live in most auspicious times, 
and that to have been born in the nineteenth 
century, ought to be the occasion of universal 
congratulation. That families and nations owe 
their safeguard to the prevalence of knowledge, 
is a sentiment, which began to circulate, before 
the present generation made its appearance. 
It was among the earliest lessons imprinted on 
our youthful minds, and though we have lived 
to witness very extraordinary occurrences, all 
that has arisen serves only to establish its cor¬ 
rectness. If we leave out of the estimate, the 
horrors incident to intestine wars and foreign 
invasions, it would be difficult to select any age 
or nation, in which more real distress has been 
felt, than that which of late years, has saddened 
the hearts of many British subjects. But 
whatever restless dispositions may have expres¬ 
sed themselves, in those parts of the empire, 
where our countrymen are languishing under 
the bitterness of privation, it would be unjust to 
stigmatize the sufferers as generally rebellious. 

The lamentations which have been heard, 
are to be ascribed to the piercings of appetite, 


READING. 


67 


and not to a spirit of revolt. In this respect, 
our present history differs essentially, from that 
of other times. Hitherto, the miseries of want, 
and revolutionary principles and practices, had, 
for the most part, gone hand in hand. The 
unhappy victims of poverty, being destitute of 
knowledge, by which to inform their minds, 
and to control their passions, were disgusted 
with the restraints of authority, and proceeded 
to trample on the dignity of rules, and to un¬ 
dermine the foundation of the throne. The 
contemplation of such facts as these, naturally 
suggests the reflection, that nothing could be 
conceived more noble, than to devise means for 
the illumination of the understanding, and the 
wide diffusion of sound instruction. To which 
it is obvious to add, that as the press is the 
most powerful vehicle of knowledge, so expe¬ 
rience has taught us, that the fears which have 
been entertained, with respect to its most un¬ 
fettered operation, are entirely groundless. 

Though it would be extremely interesting 
thus to expatiate on the national advantages 
which arise from this means of instruction; 


G8 


READING. 


there are other considerations equally important, 
and which we may with profit contemplate. 

It is unnecessary to remark, that from reading 
alone, information may be derived on almost 
every subject; the deficiences of knowledge 
may be supplied, and the most prying cu¬ 
riosity receive ample satisfaction. So nume¬ 
rous are the objects and scenes, which are 
brought within the grasp of the intellect, by 
the help of this exercise, that we cannot fail to 
have an impressive sense of the mighty 'power , 
with which it is able to invest us. It can draw 
aside the curtain, which hides the most remote 
antiquity from view. It can bring every city 
and kingdom of the habitable globe successively 
before us, with the character, manners and 
religion of the inhabitants who people them; it 
can expose the wonders of the deep, and explain 
the sublime phenomena of heaven. Nor does 
reading confine our range within the limits 
prescribed to the senses. It opens the invisible 
world, enables us to ascertain, in some degree, 
the order, disposition, and happiness of the 
spirits who move in them, and unfolds in part. 


READING. 


69 


the character of that Great Being “ who sits 
supreme at the head of the universe, is armed 
with infinite power, and pervades all nature 
with his presence.” The great value and im¬ 
portance of reading, appears in this, that it 
replenishes almost every other source of instruc¬ 
tion. It belongs to education, as conducted at 
schools, or by means of public lectures, to 
expand the powers. The time consumed on 
languages, and other pursuits, excludes the 
possibility of realizing little more than the ele¬ 
ments of knowledge from the tutor. But in 
every instance, in which a useful course of 
reading is pursued, immediately on quitting the 
character of a pupil, it gives enlargement to the 
faculties already in lively operation, detains in 
the memory the lessons which have been 
learned, the instructions which have been re¬ 
ceived, and the valuable hints which may have 
been given, to assist us in more advanced stages 
of improvement. Thus, while education points 
forward to the exercise now under considera¬ 
tion, reading recompenses the labour exerted, 


70 


READING. 


by covering the mental soil, with fresh verdure, 
delicious and variegated fruits. 

Unless reading and study be united, it is in 
vain to calculate on deriving permanent advan¬ 
tages from either. It is, indeed, by no means 
uncommon, to witness an entire separation of 
the two; so much so, as to bring the former 
greatly into disrepute. The laborious reader is 
often justly condemned as an egregious trifler, 
and as being a man of indolent mental habits. 
The pleasure which many seem to propose is, to 
obtain a reputation, for having ranged through 
a multitude of volumes, rather than to dwell on 
the merits of the different compositions; while a 
more numerous class, realize little entertain¬ 
ment, beyond what is felt in the immediate 
exercise. Hence it comes to pass, that many 
are apt to regard, the deep thinker, and 
the person of extensive reading, as characters of 
striking contrast. The sources of man’s happi¬ 
ness are twofold; they are either such as exist 
in his own mind, or such as are derived from 
causes foreign to himself. This is precisely the 


READING. 


71 


case with reading- and study. We are born into 
the world with few ideas, or, according to 
Locke, with none. Owing to the listlessness 
of youth, and the immaturity of the faculties 
at that tender age; but few notions obtain a 
permanent settlement in the mind, before we 
feel a disposition to acquire them. So that he 
who should confine his reflections to these, 
would range over a very limited field. Though 
he might stretch his ingenuity to the utmost, 
by inventing new combinations, he would soon 
meet with a monotonous sameness, which would 
compel him to discontinue the exercise, and 
seek for other means of gratification. In this 
then is seen, in part, the exoellency of reading, 
that it is the hand-maid of study; is always sup¬ 
plying materials for thought and reflection, and 
challenges the most speculative and curious to 
exhaust her resources. 

By mingling in society, by extending our 
observations to the scenes, and events which are 
passing before us, we are able to know most 
successfully the present conjuncture of affairs. 
Indeed, an indifference to this conduct, would 


72 


READING. 


prevent us from catching the spirit of the times, 
hinder us from filling with ability the situations 
we occupy, and incapacitate us for agreeable 
converse. When Dryden tells us, Milton saw 
nature “ through the spectacle of books,” he 
means to intimate, according to the interpreta¬ 
tion of Dr. Johnson, “ that he did not copy 
his images and descriptions of her scenes and 
operations from original forms, nor give them 
the freshness, raciness, and energy of immediate 
observation.” Still it may be remarked, that 
he who, to the neglect of books, should be 
most minute in studying mankind from real 
life, would obtain but an imperfect notion of 
their character. It is necessary to see them 
under different aspects from those, in which 
they are presented to our individual observation, 
to distinguish between extraordinary motives of 
action, and general principles of conduct, and to 
extend our inquiries to every age, nation, and 
climate, if we wish to arrive at comprehensive 
and just conclusions. 

An exercise, so prolific of advantages cannot 
fail to be productive of very characteristica! 


READING. 


73 


effects. Those means of information, which 
require no effort on our part to obtain the know¬ 
ledge they are intended to convey, exert but 
a feeble influence on the intellectual powers. 
The ideas, for example, of such as owe all their 
acquirements to occasional intercourse with so¬ 
ciety, and to surrounding objects, are, for the 
most part, exceedingly indistinct, and, in conse¬ 
quence of lying afloat on the surface of the mind, 
can neither awaken the attention, nor give 
exercise to thought. Labouring under these 
disadvantages, they are unprepared to receive, 
whatever is presented in the attire of reasoning, 
and are lost in a comprehensive view of any sub¬ 
ject. Together with the fresh resources which 
we derive from a useful course of reading, we 
become sensible of an alteration in the mental 
habits. The curiosity which we felt, while in a 
state of ignorance, and which, at that time, 
deserved a no better appellation, than a wild 
unmeaning gaze, is now under the guidance of 
the judgment, and cannot be gratified with what 
does not appear to harmonize with nature or 
with truth. Empty declamation, and naked 


74 


READING. 


assertion, are found to have a repulsive effect, 
and give place to dispassionate enquiry, to for¬ 
cible illustration, and to convincing proof. 

If the intellectual benefits be great, the moral 
advantages are, perhaps, more abundant and 
striking. He who reads for improvement, often 
finds it necessary to betake himself to reflection. 
Among other considerations which affect and 
humble him, is the review of that great space of 
mortal life, which is suffered to elapse, before 
the mind is mused from its slumbers, and ex¬ 
cited to desire the food and nourishment, neces¬ 
sary to enlarge its growth, and to enable it to 
put forth its vigours. And though he perceives 
that time and experience have, in some degree, 
frittered away, the folly and impertinence of 
many of his juvenile opinions, it was reserved 
for this new supply of knowledge, fully to expose 
their absurdity, and to disengage him from 
their influence. For it is extremely obvious, 
that where the perusal of books is omitted, the 
injurious impressions which are frequently de¬ 
rived from the nursery or the school, ripen from 
the increase of years; in consequence of which, 


READING. 


75 


tiie maturity of age, instead of presenting a 
reasonable being in all his dignity, exhibits the 
disgusting spectacle of manhood, under the 
controul of fancies and apprehensions peculiar 
to the tender minds of youth. By revolving the 
pages of interesting biography, we are at first 
led to admire the new lines which are given to 
the human character; the display of some 
native or acquired majesty, beyond what is 
common to the species, absorbs the attention. 
But the elements of all this greatness is found to 
consist in tastes, affections, and habits which 
are not necessarily placed beyond the reach of 
our attainment, and thus we are instructed to 
give a new direction to our powers, and to 
aspire to kindred virtue and excellence. In a 
word, an accumulation of ideas on various sub¬ 
jects, not only imparts light to the understand¬ 
ing, but makes the judgment sound and 
correct, by qualifying it to unfold the strength 
of general principles, and to pass sentence on 
the tendency of actions. While it preserves 
from dogmatism and conceit, of which ignorance 
is the legitimate parent, we are not left in the 

D 2 


76 


READING. 


unpleasant condition of such, as being destitute 
of ability or courage to form an opinion of their 
own, imbibe the sentiments of others, who, not¬ 
withstanding their reputation for knowledge, are 
often blinded by ignorance, bigotry, or caprice. 

The establishment of reading societies is a 
feature almost peculiar to modern times, and 
deserves attention, not more as a new organ of 
instruction, than as a fresh auxiliary to indi¬ 
vidual and social happiness. Besides that we 
are made acquainted with a greater number of 
books, than our solitary means could command; 
the plan secures, in some degree, the perusal of 
them, by the parties with whom we stand con¬ 
nected, and with several of whom, we may be 
on terms of intimacy. Hence, we are always 
more or less furnished with materials for ratio¬ 
nal conversation; which, in the estimation of a 
well-instructed mind, is the principal charm of 
companionship. It is an excellent improvement, 
which distinguishes many of the societies allu¬ 
ded to, that meetings are regularly convened, 
for the purpose of mutual discourse, on the 
various publications which may have engaged 


READING. 


/ / 

our private reading. The prospect of having to 
advance an opinion on the merits of a work, 
awakens a closer attention to the sentiments of 
the author, and to the nature of the subject; and 
the opportunity of hearing the remarks of 
different members, which compose the body, 
strengthens or corrects the views we have enter¬ 
tained; enlarges the sphere of our knowledge, 
and keeps up a glowing and perpetual interest. 
The beneficial influence which results from the 
adoption of this practice, may well excite 
surprise, that it is not more general. No 
critical acumen, no logical accuracy, no talent 
for public speaking, is necessary to carry the 
design into effect. We have only to ascertain 
the design of the writer: to recollect some of 
his principal arguments and illustrations, and 
then to express ourselves with all the freedom 
of the most familiar intercourse. 

It is an inquiry of considerable magnitude, 
whether our reading is more profitably employed, 
on ancient, than on modern authors. The 
writer makes no pretences to the compass of 
thought, or depth of learning, necessary to 


78 


READING. 


determine the question. He may, however, 
hazard a few observations, which it does not 
require a mediocrity of knowledge, or of talent 
to advance. When it is asked, whether we 
may peruse, to greater advantage the works of 
the ancients or of the moderns, the first thing 
which presents itself to the attention, is, the 
nature of the subject, with respect to which, we 
are desirous of receiving information. If we 
wished to acquaint ourselves with astronomy, 
it would be natural to have recourse to those 
authors, who have written on that science, in its 
most improved state, for the simple reason, 
that if to the neglect of the labours of Newton, 
and his successors, we should read the composi¬ 
tions of preceding astronomers, our minds 
would remain ignorant of many important and 
sublime discoveries. The same reasoning applies 
to other parts of mixed mathematics, to che¬ 
mistry, and to various branches of natural phi¬ 
losophy. In eloquence, poetry, history, and 
the fine arts, competent judges tell us, that an¬ 
tiquity justly bears the palm: while the pro¬ 
gress made in the science of mind, is considered 


READING. 


79 


one of the most glorious distinctions of modem 
times. For these reasons, the following passage 
from Sir William Temple, is not in perfect 
harmony with present history, but must be 
read with certain limitations. “ Thales, 
Pythagoras, Democritus, Hippocrates, Plato, 
Aristotle, Epicurus, w 7 ere the first mighty con¬ 
querors of ignorance in our world, and made 
greater progresses in the several empires of 
science, than any of their successors have been 
since able to reach. These have hardly ever 
pretended more, than to learn what the others 
taught, to remember what they invented, and 
not able to compass that itself, they have 
set up for authors, upon some parcels of those 
ereat stocks, or else have contented themselves 
only to comment upon those texts, and make 
the best copies they could, after those origi¬ 
nals.”* If we suppose the question to relate 
to subjects which have received no important 
illumination in more recent times, we reduce it 
to narrower limits: and several very enlightened 

* Essay upon Ancient and Modern Learning. 


so 


READING. 


and judicious persons, imagine they can clearly 
discover, the superiority of the ancients, on this 
ground, over the moderns. The different ages 
of Pericles in Greece; of Augustus Caesar in 
Rome; and of Louis XIV. in France; are 
thought to exhibit bolder displays of genius and 
learning than later periods. We are directed 
to look among the writers who flourished during 
the time of the English Commonwealth, for the 
noblest offsprings of the human mind our nation 
has produced. These persons seem to have 
made a world of every thing which engaged 
their contemplations, and not to have been 
satisfied, without surveying it, in all its circum¬ 
ference and depth. They, whose peculiar turn 
of mind inclines them to see a subject exhaust¬ 
ed, usually select their favourites from among 
the authors of the seventeenth century, but 
works of a more recent date are preferred, 
where the mind is content with a less ample 
range of thought, and is won by the graces and 
beauty of language. 

After all, it is very possible, to indulge the 


READING. 81 

passion for reading to excess. Much as it 
promises to widen the boundaries of our infor¬ 
mation, there is danger of overlooking the 
mind. In their solicitude to appear respectable 

in all companies, books on almost every subject, 
are perused by many with the greatest eagerness. 
It does not occur to the recollection, that the 
employment is profitable for themselves, and 
apart from the indolence and vanity, with 
which some readers are chargeable, there are 
others who cheerfully barter their intellectual 
improvement, for the ability of contributing to 
the sweets of the social circle. To promote the 
happiness of others, is a duty of the first magni¬ 
tude. Nor will it be denied, that it is easy to 
confine ourselves to a certain class of authors, 
who might hinder us from adding to the plea¬ 
sures of mutual intercourse. But it is proper 
sometimes to close the volume, with a view to 
examine what additions we have made to the 
stock of useful and solid knowledge. And if on 
inquiry it is found, we have expatiated over too 
wide a field, to make any permanent acquisitions, 

D 3 


82 


READING. 


the season seems to be arrived, for exercising 
‘‘the courage that is required to remain igno- 
norant of those useless subjects which are 
2,enerallv valued.” 

o «/ 


ON STUDY. 


“ Quod si hominibus bonarum rerum tanta cura esset , quanto studio aliena, ac 
nihil prof utura, multum etiam periculosa petunt; nequc regerentur magis , 
qua in regerent casus ; ct eo magnitudinis procederent, vbi pro mortalibus, 
gloria ceterni ficrent ."— SALLUST. 

If mental cultivation and improvement were an equal object of attention 
with mankind, as pursuits which are foreign, unprofitable, and extremely 
injurious to their interests; they would as much controul the chances 
of fortune, as lie exposed to their power; and advance, although they 
are mortal, to such a pitch of greatness, as to be crowned with perpetual 
honour. 


The objects which usually solicit the inferior 
powers of our nature, and to which we are all 
conscious of a deep rooted attachment, are for 
the most part very easy of access. They meet 
us in every direction, and are brought so com¬ 
pletely within the reach, that nothing- more is 
necessary, than, like our mother Eve, to put 
forth our hand, to take and eat. The facility 
with which they may be acquired, is, however, 
not more remarkable, than their insulficiency 



84 


slum. 


to produce lasting satisfaction. The entrance 
of moral evil into our world, has beset every 
path to excellence with a variety of obstacles, 
so that the acquisition of substantial good, can 
scarcely be reckoned among the common boun¬ 
ties of nature, but is generally the fruit of 
patient and persevering application. This ina¬ 
bility to make superior and permanent attain¬ 
ments, without study and research, cannot fail 
to produce a sensible impression of the limitation 
of our faculties. Though numberless examples 
are not wanting, in which, through the vigorous 
exercise of the mind, the dignity of man, as the 
creature of God, is demonstrated, the most 
extraordinary genius finds all his enquiries 
bounded by certain limits, which he cannot 
pass. And it is adapted to teach us humility, 
and to produce a solemn instance of the true 
sublime, when we place the intellectual powers 
of man, in contrast with the Omniscience of 
Deity; by which he comprehends at a glance, 
the nature and properties of every object, toge¬ 
ther with their most abstruse and infinite rela¬ 
tions. 


STUDY. 


85 


There is no possession of the mind more rare, 
or one, which is sought with less concern, than 
the habit of study. Though none who are given 
to sober reflection, deny that it is an enviable 
endowment, many are not impressed with the 
conviction that it is essential to happiness. 
According to their views of the subject, it seems 
agreeable to the order of Providence, and the 
will of the Supreme, that the talent of applica¬ 
tion, the exercise of a “ patient force of 
thought,” should be confined to a few chosen 
and privileged mortals, to those who are entrust- 
e , in the language of Lord Bacon, with “ the 
general counsels, and the plots and marshalling 
of affairs,” or who are raised up in any depart¬ 
ment of life, to be the teachers of mankind. 

It is certainly no inferior manifestation of the 
goodness of the Almighty, that he does not 
require the exercise of abilities, for which he 
has made little or no provision; and he might be 
justly stigmatized as reflecting on the wisdom of 
heaven, who should recommend a line of conduct, 
tending to make a breach upon that arrange¬ 
ment, which is no less adapted to carry forward 


86 


STUDY. 


the purposes of Deity, than to secure the wel¬ 
fare of the intelligent part of his creation. 

But if all are not equal to the application of 
mind, we are speaking of, there are some con¬ 
siderations with respect to study, which cannot 
fail of being generally interesting. 

In consequence of the powers which are 
brought to light, by means of this exercise, 
the development, for example, of an unusual 
degree of sagacity, penetration, and other talents, 
many are apt to consider study as the gift of 
nature, and not an acquired habit. Several 
causes have no doubt contributed to strengthen 
this opinion. The first which may be mentioned, 
and on which we shall make no comment, is the 
small number of individuals who have been thus 
gifted, when compared with the greatness of man¬ 
kind. Superstition has, moreover, lent her aid in 
support of this sentiment. There are more stu¬ 
dious minds in England, (the land of protestants) 
than in any other nation of Europe; and in Eu¬ 
rope, probably, than in any other part of the 
World. If we turn over the pages of history, we 
shall find the long and melancholy reign of popery. 


STUDY. 


87 


to have been the reign of ignorance. But few 
studied for a thousand years, because the greater 
part were forbidden to think. The natural 
effect of this prohibition, was to deter mankind, 
from paying the least attention to the intellec¬ 
tual character, and accordingly the mental 
faculties were suffered to lie in undisturbed 
repose. Now as we have the testimony both of 
experience and revelation, that man possesses a 
strong propensity to think well of himself, is it 
not a little surprising, that any should consider 
their minds unable to exert a force, which would 
conduct to real excellence, and enlarge the 
capacity for satisfying enjoyments i This is a 
circumstance which ought to be ascribed to a 
physical cause, rather than to a moral one. 
And when we reflect that the triumphs of pro- 
testantism are not complete, even in our distin¬ 
guished country, why may we not ascribe the 
prevailing disposition, to think the intellect 
incapable of any achievement, to the slumbers 
of popery, from which we have not all yet per¬ 
fectly awoke? The difference betwixt man as 
the creature of God, and the violator of his law, 


STUDY. 


88 

is very essential, and ought to be deeply im¬ 
printed on every mind. In the one capacity, 
we are next in order to the angels, in the other, 
“ worse than the beasts which perish.” To in¬ 
sist, therefore, on the dignity of human nature, 
agreeably to the former light, is sometimes pro¬ 
per ; though it is confessed, that to set forth its 
degradation, according to the latter, is more 
necessary for the safety of the offender, and the 
glory of the divine lawgiver. But it is observa¬ 
ble, that our moral and intellectual |natures are 
often indiscriminately blended together, by a 
contemptuous infidelity on the one hand, and by 
a mystical theology on the other: and hence 
arises another cause why many imagine they 
have few or no powers of application. It is 
surely high time to break loose from the fetters 
of ignorance and of superstition, from educa¬ 
tional and all other prejudices, by which we 
have so long been spell-bound ; and to 

“ Call to mind what high capacious powers 

Lie folded up in man.” 

Much pleasure and advantage may be derived 
from contemplating the mind as engaged in 


STUDY. 


89 


some patient and vigorous research. Why may 
we not indulge the same curiosity in surveying 
the empire of the intellect, as in roaming- 
through the kingdom of inanimate creation? 
The soul of the spectator is flung into a pleasing 
astonishment, when he beholds the swellings of 
the ocean, the cloud-capt mountains, and other 
objects of an equally dreadful appearance. The 
scenes and images pictured to the imagination 
by the movements of a mighty intellect, are no 
less pleasing and sublime: whether we consider 
the efforts in penetrating the recesses of nature, 
and unlocking her mysteries ; whether we mark 
its rapidity in untwisting the folds of a compli¬ 
cated argument; whether we view it in drawing 
out a lengthened chain of reasoning, or in 
pouring forth an impetuous stream of eloquence. 
By none of the pleasures of the imagination, 
which Akenside beautifully describes, are we 
so much impressed with a sense of greatness, as 
by the one alluded to in the passage which sets 
forth the aspirings of a noble genius. 

-“ The high born soul 

Disdains to rest her heaven aspiring wing 



90 


STUDY. 


Beneath his native quarry. Tired of earth 
And this diurnal scene, she springs aloft 
Through fields of air ; pursues the flying storm, 

Rides on the vollied lightnings through the heavens; 

Or yoked with whirlwinds and the northern blast, 
Sweeps the long tract of day.” &c. 

But the contemplation of that march of 
thought which is pursued in a vigorous attention 
to study, is not an employment of mere curiosity. 
It will be recollected, that many of the arts and 
sciences, which embellish society, are the fruits 
of patient application; and therefore, an occa¬ 
sional glance at the silent, but glorious evolu¬ 
tions of the mind, would compel sentiments of 
lively gratitude. The artificer goes to his daily 
labour, and by means of his tools and materials, 
constructs the intended piece of mechanism; 
but he seldom calls to remembrance the skill of 
the inventor, or the laborious investigation in 
which he was exercised, before he gave his dis¬ 
covery to the light of day. The scholar is en¬ 
raptured as he passes from one object of study 
to another, and receives fresh ideas of order, 
harmony, and grandeur. How numerous the 
struggles with obscurity! How profound the 


STUDY. 


91 


inquiries! How undivided the attention to lo¬ 
gical accuracy, which preceded the formation of 
the different systems, to whose accurate ar¬ 
rangements he is indebted for the lights and fa¬ 
cilities which direct him in his studies. We sit 
round our family fire-side, and are delighted 
while we listen to a member of the domestic 
circle, reading the composition of some superior 
author: the force of his arguments ; the apt¬ 
ness of his illustrations; and the frequent in¬ 
troduction of natural and beautiful imagery, 
enchain the attention, and engage the heart. 
But how rarely do we pause to consider the mid¬ 
night toil endured, in collecting the materials, 
in conducting the process of thought, and in 
diffusing over the whole, the colours and visions 
of poetry. 

By surveying the ample range which many 
studious men have taken, we are likely to exalt 
our own minds, and to feel disgust at whatever 
is narrow or grovelling in sentiment. This 
will be more especially evident, if we are under 
the dominion of religion; for who can behold 
the operations of a powerful intellect, without 


92 


STUDY. 


perceiving that man was formed for noble and 
generous deeds, that he was wrought in a mould 
too refined for bigotry or partial purposes, and 
that it is in consequence of a sad defection 
from the great Creator, we are so much impri¬ 
soned within the empire of the senses and pas¬ 
sions ? If the character now under considera¬ 
tion, is attempting to grasp a doctrine or fact 
of revelation, the enlarged conceptions which 
he forms of divine subjects, will impressively 
show the importance of his rank in the scale of 
being, and deepen the conviction, that he was 
sent into the world to run a career of eminence 
and distinction. The poet Thompson seems to 
have felt the advantage of referring to the his¬ 
tory and exertions of powerful minds, when he 
sang so sweetly, 

-“ There, studious let me sit, 

And hold high converse with the mighty dead ; 

Sages of ancient time, as gods revered; 

As gods beneficent, who blest mankind 
With arts and arms, and humanized a world.” 

But of all the views which we might take of 
study, there is none more encouraging or won¬ 
derful, than the comparative ease with which 



STUDY. 


93 


we may become acquainted, notwithstanding 
our poverty of talent, with the most brilliant 
creations of the genius and learning of others. 
It cost Virgil eleven years to compose his im¬ 
perishable ^Eneid; but how soon is it possible 
for him who knows the Latin language, to be 
captivated with the principal charms of epic 
poetry ! Milton felt an early impression, that he 
should compose something which would do 
honour to his country; yet though he spent a 
considerable portion of his life in preparing Para¬ 
dise Lost, with what facility may we take from 
the shelf, and become tolerable masters of a 
performance, whose author “ sent his faculties 
out, upon discovery, into worlds where only 
imagination can travel, and delighted to form 
new modes of existence, and furnish sentiment 
and action to superior beings, to trace the coun¬ 
sels of hell, or accompany the choirs of heaven.” 
The same remark will apply to numberless 
other authors ; and if any consideration is 
adapted to reconcile us to the want of intel¬ 
lectual energy, it is, that the noble thoughts, 
and living images of these master minds, are 


94 


STUDY. 


ready furnished to our hands, to supply the 
deficiencies of nature, or to fill up the void 
which may have been occasioned by some for¬ 
tuitous event. 

These observations might almost justify the 
wish for organs sufficiently transparent to sur¬ 
vey the movements of the internal economy. 
The operations of the mind are, however, hid 
behind the scene, and can be explained only by 
the use of terms appropriated, for the most 
part, to objects with which the senses are con¬ 
versant. But though it is vain to attempt to 
descry the secret power; its energies surpass 
those of every other kind, in duration, extent, 
and variety. When we compare Alexander 
the Great with Julius Caesar, it is difficult, 
probably, to determine, which was the greater 
warrior. More than two thousand years have 
elapsed, since the achievements of the former 
ceased to astonish the spectator; while, during 
the period of eighteen centuries, the latter has 
all along continued to exert, by means of his 
Commentaries, a mighty influence over every 
republic of letters. 


STUDY. 


95 


The corporeal strength which some individual 
has put forth, excites our surprise; but the 
knowledge of it, is confined to ourselves, and 
will soon be forgotten. Such is the force of 
conventional power, that it often commands 
extensive neighbourhoods; it is, nevertheless, 
easy to repair to places, where it is altogether 
unknown. And though in a system of politics 
may be found an engine adapted to move a 
great nation; other kingdoms are beyond the 
reach of its operations. How superior the ef¬ 
forts of the intellect. These are neither re¬ 
stricted to language, genius, or manners, nor 
fail to attract attention, wherever they appear. 
Homer was first heard to sing in Greece, and 
in the same country, Demosthenes first wielded 
his eloquence; but it is possible to select from 
every part of the civilized world, those whose 
ears are attuned to the melodies of the poet, or 
alarmed by the thunders of the Athenian orator. 

The displays of power which are given by the 
exercise of the corporeal functions, and by the 
resources of opulence or rank are characterized 
by a sameness in every age and nation. The 


STUDY. 


90 

productions of the mind cannot be numbered; 
we lose ourselves amidst the endless variety; 
and live in an age in which the curiosity is per¬ 
petually awakened by fresh inventions and im¬ 
provements. 

The design of these remarks, is not to erect a 
temple to genius, or to induce any to become 
its worshippers. The author has been led to 
dwell on a few of the effects which follow, 
where study is most successfully exerted, in 
hope that he may allure some to the more 
diligent consideration of the mental faculties; 
and, at the same time, produce a conviction, 
that the greatness which we are disposed to as¬ 
cribe to many of our species, if not owing so 
much to the propitious smiles of nature, or the 
chances of fortune, as to the force of habit, 
which every reasonable being may, to some ex¬ 
tent acquire. The noblest offsprings of the 
mind, can, we believe, but rarely be attributed 
to the efforts of mere nature, unaccompanied by 
the assistance of art. In proof of this, we need 
only peruse the lives of those, who have been 
most illustrious for talent or learning; from 


STUDY. 


97 


which we shall presently learn, that they wan- 
widely from the truth, who suppose, 
“The thoughts that breathe, and words that burn” 
are thrown off from the imagination in some 
happy moment, and without labour. 

Though we have considered study in its more 
vigorous flights, yet let it be remembered, the 
powers by which it is sustained, exist alike in 
all. Nor can it be doubted, that the preemi¬ 
nence of one man above another, consists 
chiefly, in the greater industry which has been 
employed, in refining and multiplying the 
perceptions; in endeavouring to fix the atten¬ 
tion; to strengthen the memory; to give sound¬ 
ness to the judgment; and to the faculty of 
reasoning, accuracy, and force. 

By those who leave it to others to study for 
them, and are not inclined to application, it 
will be thought, the preceding observations 
might have been spared. The author, notwith¬ 
standing. persuades himself, that feelings of an 
opposite class will be excited, where the neces¬ 
sity and value of study are properly understood. 

For who that is given to serious reflection, 

E 


98 


STUDY. 


can hesitate to acknowledge, that this exercise 
is conducive to happiness, both in our individual 
and social character '! It enables us to enlarge 
our resources in the present state of being; and 
materially assists us in our march to the land of 

immortality. 

* 


ON CONVERSATION. 


I Ie/5i/a2ko/x.£v oyy, Trpos r\pA.x% avrovs Bit xXE<yo/*=vcu i npi rwv sipn/^zvcov^ 
XXI X*X<TKO<7!OV>TSS’ TOTc B’ctV T!tpt TV)f (JV/A^OpO.S BisSi ITef, 0!Tr; 
riuTv 'yi'yovvTct an, an^vaj vyov/^svot, wnrep 'rrarpos aran^ara, 
Bia^s/v oppavoi roy i«ira 0/oy. —Pluto on the Deaih of Socmtes. 

Accordingly we remain, discoursing with ourselves about the things 
which had been spoken, and meditating upon them. Then we 
converse again, with respect to the great calamity which would befal 
us: thinking with anguish, that we were about to pass the remainder 
of life, as fatherless children. 


Conversation means something more than 
a mere interchange of words, arising from the 
impulse of the moment, or from the urgency of 
the occasion. Viewed only in this light, it is com¬ 
mon to the whole family of man, distinguished 
by no peculiarity, except that the learned and 
polished part of society are more select and appro¬ 
priate than others, in their manner of speaking. 
But conversation is so little indebted, for its 
charms, to the grace or elegance of expression, 



100 


CONVERSATION. 


that this is the last quality we look for, in the 
mutual communication of thought and feeling. 
The interest is derived from other causes, and 
is, at the same time, so glowing and intense in 
many minds, that we may with propriety, make 
it the subject of a few reflections. 

In this exercise, we both receive and impart: 
and have access to each other’s sentiments and 
bosoms, without any intervening medium, to 
impair the freshness of first impressions. To 
converse with our fellow-creatures, by means of 
books, or by epistolary correspondence, is a 
prolific source of pleasure. But he may be 
suspected to want the soft and endearing affec¬ 
tions, who is content with that intercourse with 
society which he may obtain through these 
auxiliaries. The ideas conveyed by any of the 
senses to the imagination, are far less durable 
and efficacious, than those which emanate from 
the living voice. The reason of this, is ex¬ 
tremely obvious. Language was given to 
express the passions and emotions of the mind. 
The sentiments of the most interesting character 
that has ever appeared, though gilded with all 


CONVERSATION. 


101 

the decorations of speech, are, while they appear 
in writing*, but the utterance of half his soul. 
We must see them accompanied with his sig¬ 
nificant modulations, tones, and gestures, before 
they can produce a perfect impression. And as 
the reason which is given in explanation of this 
remark, is evident, so it derives a striking illus¬ 
tration, from the force of oratory. It is true 
of that noble art, when carried to the highest 
degree of excellence, that it entirely subdues 
the audience, and bears them away, as with the 
impetuosity of a tempest. But how sensible 
are the effects produced by the most smooth 
and equable flow of discourse. Feelings and 
emotions are awakened, which, though they are 
too volatile to be defined by words, occasion the 
most gentle and agreeable agitations, through 
all the powers of the inward man. 

Conversation appears to great advantage, 
when compared to merely solitary exercises. 
Although the pleasure of reading and contem¬ 
plation be great, it will not be denied, that it is 
likely, unless we are on our guard, to have a 
monopolizing influence. We love the calm 


102 CONVERSATION. 

and serene manner, in which the streams of 
knowledge are silently poured into the mind, 
and eagerly retire from the noise and bustle of 
the world, to realize such ennobling advantages. 
When the practice is so often repeated, as to be 
wrought into habit, there is a propensity to 
imagine, that the more we recede from sensible 
objects, be they persons or things, the nearer we 
advance to the refined enjoyments of pure and 
spiritual beings. But though silent reflection 
is a great duty, much more, probably, than is 
in general supposed, he who is entirely devoted 
to it, answers but one purpose of his existence. 
The divine sentiment, that it is not good for 
man to be alone, is verified in other instances, 
besides that in which it was originally spoken; 
and contemplating him as formed for society, 
the reasons why he should sometimes indulge in 
a mutual intercourse with his species, cannot 
fail to be as cogent as those which ought to 
impel him to study. A too great attention to 
the abstractions of the closet is unfriendly to 
the social virtues. By absorbing the mind in 
pursuits, which are primarily intended to please 


CONVERSATION. 


103 


the appetite of self, it deadens the feelings of 
regard which we ought to cherish towards 
friends and companions. A free and unfettered 
conversation warms and dilates the heart, quick¬ 
ens our sympathies, and brings us into closer 
contact with those, whom we ought to respect, 
esteem, and venerate. In consequence of con¬ 
suming more time, than is proper, in solitary 
reading and meditation, it is possible to acquire 
the habit of viewing the supplies of knowledge 
as intended only ‘‘for home consumption,” as 
designed merely to perfect and replenish our 
own faculties. By unbosoming the mind to 
others, we learn that knowledge was also com¬ 
municated with a view to “ foreign exporta¬ 
tion,” and that the more we appropriate, the 
more we are expected to impart. In the deep 
musings of the study, we are liable, through the 
influence of a perverted imagination, and other 
causes, to take but partial views of questions, 
big with interest and importance, and soon to 
lose ourselves in the windings and intricacies of 
error; while in the mutual warmth of friendly 
debate, the same questions may appear in a 


CONVERSATION. 


new and imposing light; our views may be 
enlarged; the flaws in our reasonings and 
speculations may be detected; and thus may we 
be preserved within the boundaries of soberness 
and truth. 

Conversation was so highly appreciated by 
the great masters of antiquity, that it was con¬ 
sidered by them the most successful vehicle of 
communicating instruction. Every one is 
aware, that it was the practice of Socrates, to 
teach by the agreeable and insinuating method 
of questions and answers; and it is worthy of 
attention, that some of the most celebrated 
treatises, which have descended from the classic 
ages of Greece and Rome, are in the form of 
dialogue. Plato lived eight years with Socrates, 
during which period he committed to writing, 
according to the custom of students, a great 
number of his master’s excellent lectures, and 
digested them into philosophical conversations. 
So delighted was this surprising genius with 
the style we are speaking of, that all his com¬ 
positions were published by way of dialogue; in 
which he seems to be delivering the sentiments 


CONVERSATION. 


105 


of others, rather than his own. The de Oratore 
of Cicero, is composed after the same model, 
and this, in the opinion of a competent judge,* 
is the most finished performance, of that per¬ 
fect teacher, and example of eloquence. Those 
who, in our language, have imitated this manner 
of communicating the sentiments of the mind, 
are extremely few in number; a circumstance, 
which, among other considerations, led Dr. 
Blair to pronounce it, a distinction of rare 
attainment. In every other kind of composition, 
it is sufficient, if the author informs the judg¬ 
ment, and delights the fancy: we are not 
conscious of any diminution of pleasure, from 
the idea of absence. In this, we are drawn 
forth to expect, a representation of real life, 
and are not satisfied, unless made to imagine, 
that we hear the voice, and see the countenance. 
The difficulty seems to lie, not in collecting 
materials, or in introducing characters, but in 
giving to the dialogues, such delicate strokes 
and touches, as in painting and sculpture, under 
the hands of Raphael and Praxiteles, made the 

* Dr. Blair. 

E 3 


CONVERSATION. 


100 

canvass to move, and the marble to breathe. 
They who have aimed to teach mankind by this 
method, were doubtless of opinion, that truth 
may by this means be best elicited. An oppor¬ 
tunity is given to survey it on all sides: to give 
full play to the intellectual faculties, and by the 
collision and warmth of feeling, to expose the 
fallacy, or prove the soundness of an argument. 

It is a peculiar charm of mutual intercourse, 
that it renders necessary, but few qualifications, 
which all may not acquire. If it derive an ad¬ 
ditional degree of interest, from a rich supply of 
various knowledge, erudition is not its sole or 
principal resource. He who is susceptible of the 
glowing warmth of generous friendship, will take 
care to have at his command, topics and lan¬ 
guage fitted to entertain every member of the 
social circle. No violent efforts of genius are 
wanted for that purpose. Study, it is con¬ 
fessed, is necessary; but not that kind of study, 
which consists in exercising “ a patient force 
of thoughtbut in the easy and agreeable effort 
of infusing pleasure into kindred bosoms. The 
faculty of speaking is common to the species. 


CON VERSATION. 


107 


and, therefore, it would be absurd to suppose, 
that all have not the power of using it. Con¬ 
versation, as we have seen, is the language of 
nature; the expression of passion, and of feel¬ 
ing, and is so far from being a talent dependant 
on labour or art, that we have uniformly ob¬ 
served efforts of this kind completely fail, where 
the benevolent dispositions have had little or no 
ascendancy. Here the statesman, the philoso¬ 
pher, the scholar, and the humble mechanic, 
move, each in his respective sphere of acquaint¬ 
ance, and in the business and bliss of receiving 
and communicating joy, are on terms of exact 
equality. How exhilarating to reflect, that 
amidst the great diversity which marks man¬ 
kind, the innumerable distinctions of society, 
from the king on the throne, to the inhabitant 
of the meanest cottage, there is one spring of 
entertainment, of which all may participate. 
Against the limited distribution of the goods 
. of fortune, the select bestowment of rank and 
title, they who are pierced with the stings of 
adversity, are often ready to murmur; and to 
arraign the conduct of Providence, as being 


108 


CONVERSATION. 


partial and unkind. Let such remember, these 
are only external appearances, and where they 
are seen in their highest grandeur, are exceed¬ 
ingly evanescent. But while all this glitter is 
passing away, the intercourse of kindred souls, 
however poor, may be daily increasing in inte¬ 
rest, by the fresh curiosity which it excites; by 
the unexpected displays which it affords of na¬ 
ture in her kindlier tendencies, and by drawing 
into closer union the cementing ties of friend¬ 
ship. 

Easy, as it may seem, thus to expatiate on 
conversation, many complain of being unable to 
impart an interest to the company, in which 
they may happen to mingle. After the usual 
salutations are past, they are at a loss how to 
introduce a subject, or to offer remarks appro¬ 
priate to the one which has already engaged 
the attention. The mind is conscious of real 
distress, while they observe those around them, 
expressing their sentiments with a freedom and . 
propriety which they are utterly unable to com¬ 
mand; and the mortifying thought, that, nature 
seems to have formed these persons to charm 


CONVERSATION. 


101 


and instruct others, while she has neglected 
them, completes their vexation. This is a cir¬ 
cumstance which it requires but little sagacity 
to explain. The facility with which conversa¬ 
tion appears to be conducted, induces us to be¬ 
lieve, it is very possible to contribute our share; 
and as one of its chief excellencies lies in the 
pleasure which it affords, when the mind is dis¬ 
engaged from application or business, no pre¬ 
paration is deemed to be essential. As far as 
relates to any formal study for the occasion, 
this opinion is correct. But the interesting 
companion is generally found to be a person of 
considerable information. Though he may not 
be remarkable for the powers of abstraction, or 
deep research, he has travelled over an exten¬ 
sive field, and borrowed topics and illustrations 
from almost every quarter within his reach. 
Hence he is not often liable to be surprised by 
a subject, with respect to which he has no 
knowledge; while the excited state of his fa¬ 
culties, enables him to make excellent use of 
the materials which he has collected. Whether 
it be necessary to advance appropriate observa- 


110 


CONVERSATION. 


tions, to introduce striking allusions, or to re¬ 
late instructive anecdotes, he seldom finds him¬ 
self at a loss, or in danger of being soon ex¬ 
hausted. 

Every person distinguished for this power of 
pleasing, possesses an intimate acquaintance 
with human nature. He has acquired the hap¬ 
py art of discriminating the tastes and relishes 
of those with whom he associates. Through 
the interchange of words, he draws forth their 
sentiments of the differeut questions which are 
started, and watches for the favourable season, 
in which he may imperceptibly introduce new 
ones of his own. The selfish passions are laid 
to sleep, and authoritative airs are not assumed. 
Under these advantages does he engage the at¬ 
tention of the company, and by the brilliancy of 
his conversational talents, produce those sensa¬ 
tions, which gladden every heart, and sparkle 
in every eye. 

It may be remarked, that considerable powers 
of language are often displayed in society, 
which fail to give birth to these happy effects. 
It is acknowledged, that we have considered 


CONVERSATION. 


Ill 


conversation under a very imposing aspect, and 
have been led by the nature of our observations 
to speak of it, as an enviable endowment, as a 
term dear to friendship, and sacred to the pur¬ 
poses of a warm and expansive benevolence. If 
this view of the subject be correct, what other 
proof soever we may witness, of the copiousness 
of thought and expression, the name of conver¬ 
sation cannot be affixed to it, without abusing 
that title. So exuberant and rich, for example, 
are the resources of certain minds, that they are 
able to spread a universal delight, and we listen 
with silent admiration to the force and splen¬ 
dour of their remarks. But to this talent 
should be given the appropriate name of ora¬ 
tory. 

•> 

The want of capacity for much speaking, 
ought not, on many accounts, to be considered 
a matter for very deep regret. With the pro¬ 
pensity to please, and the ability to communi¬ 
cate, many have to deplore the frequent intro¬ 
duction of trifling and unseasonable topics. We 
are often betrayed into a loquacity which tempts 
us to inquire, in our moments of solemn re- 


il2 


CONVERSATION. 


flection, why language was conferred on us, and 
withholden from any part of the dumb creation ? 
And he may, surely, be regarded as a most for¬ 
tunate man, who is unprepared to tell a tale, 
which has been a thousand times told; to dilate 
on the ill qualities of his neighbours, to engross 
the whole attention, and to speak of every sub¬ 
ject without connection, and without interest. 

It is often necessary to give a new turn to 
the conversation, and he who is able to do it 
with effect, is peculiarly fitted to bless the 
social circle. The principal difficulty lies in 
seizing on the precise moment. Here, as on all 
other occasions, it is proper to study nature; 
since the violent intrusion of a topic, however 
excellent, cannot but greatly tend to rob it of 
all its charms. Much knowledge of the par¬ 
ties is required, and such an exhibition of the 
temper of his own mind, as shall convince them 
of the purity and kindness of his intentions; 
joined to an ability to impart considerable in¬ 
terest to the question which he is about to in¬ 
troduce. 


CONVERSATION. 


113 


If it be asked, when conversation appears to 
the best advantage ? we reply, it is when sub¬ 
jects of the greatest magnitude form the ma¬ 
terials of discourse; when it is impregnated 
by religion, and accompanied with a glowing 
unanimity, analogous to what was felt by that 
happy pair who said, “did not our hearts burn 
within us, while He talked with us by the way, 
and while He opened to us the Scriptures V* 












4 




' 




. 















ON DECISION. 


** It is not necessary to amplify on the indispensable importance of this 
quality in order to the accomplishment of any thing eminently good, We 
instantly see, that every path to signal excellence is so obstructed and 
beset, that none buta spirit so qualified, can pass ” 

“ The moment of finishing his plans in deliberation, and commencing 
them in action, was the same. I wonder what must have been the 
amount of that bribe in emolument or pleasure, that would have detained 
him a week inactive after their final adjustment.” 

“ A man endowed with the complete character, says, with a sober con¬ 
sciousness as remote from the spirit of bravado as it is from timidity, thus 
and thus, is my conviction and my determination ; now for the phantoms 
of fear; let me look them in the face; they will find I am not made of 
trembling materials: ‘ I dare do all that may become a man.’ ” 

Foster on Decision of Character. 


Whilk we find it easy to form plans of con¬ 
duct, and to propose the most laudable ends in 
our undertakings, experience teaches, that it is 
difficult to bring them into operation ; and when 
we proceed to reflect on that failing part of our 
nature which is so injurious to our interests, it 
is found to consist in an inaptitude to apply 
ourselves to the work with full purpose of 
heart. On this account, decision is a subject 
which cannot fail, at all times, to recommend 



116 


DECISION. 


itself to the attention, and which, if considered 
by a person of ardent and vigorous feelings, is 
likely to be productive of great practical effects. 

The author is induced, for certain reasons 
which it is not necessary to mention, to depart 
from the method which he has hitherto adopted; 
and having in his possession a letter which may 
with propriety be introduced in this place, he 
makes no apology for laying it before the public. 


My Dear Friend. 

Your last communication ar¬ 
rived at a moment, when I had no opportunity 
to read its interesting contents. I was therefore 
obliged to reserve that pleasure to the favoured 
hour, in which I should be in circumstances 
adapted to make every passage touching and 
impressive. It is proper to inform you, that it 
has for sometime been my practice, during the 
summer season, to betake myself to a seques¬ 
tered spot, just before sunset, in order that I 
might soften at the sight of the delicate and 
“ sober livery” which nature assumes, before she 


DECISION. 


117 


is covered with the mantle of night. The place 
to which I allude, is at the outskirts of the 
town, and in a North-west direction. The 
pathway usually leads through a church-yard, 
and a little onward to the right, is a narrow 
lane which opens on the brow of a hill, that 
commands a goodly prospect. Before me, at 
the base of the declivity, a small stream is per¬ 
petually gliding. On the West, appear fields 
of smiling corn, and other productions of the 
bountiful hand of heaven; and on the East 
arises an antique wall, in a state of lapidation, 
which brings to remembrance the sad days of 
Oliver Cromwell. Here I sat down, and 
amidst the silence which surrounded me, pe- 

x 

rused your epistle. Never was my mind so 
powerfully struck before with the sweetness and 
value of friendship. You seemed to kindle at 
every fresh sentence, in expressions of esteem, 
and in the unreserved manner in which you 
opened all your heart. But I must not stay to 
tell you the feelings and flow of soul, which I 
was conscious of, while meditating on your gen¬ 
erous sentiments. Without any further intro- 


118 


DECISION. 


duction, 1 hasten to reply to the request which 
you make, that I would give you some account 
of what have been the distinguishing habits of 
my life. Habit, my dear friend, is, as you well 
know, rather a comprehensive term, denoting 
not a few isolated actions, but the general tenor 
of our being; so that you will not think it 
strange, if I confine myself to the mention of 
one of them, in the present letter. You will 
deem it, perhaps, a peculiar happiness to learn, 
that I felt an early desire for the acquisition of 
knowledge; but unfortunately for me, the outset 
of my enquiries was characterized by the great¬ 
est indecision. It was generally by fits and 
starts that a book was opened ; and many a time 
when it was not exactly convenient to apply, 1 
used to resolve to study with great vigour, as 
soon as the season came ; but from some unac¬ 
countable cause, my zeal* was, by this time, 
nearly spent, and the hours for improvement 
were wasted in unnecessary exercise, or in fri¬ 
volous conversation. This instability of charac- 
ter was, at the commencement, attended with 
little inconvenience, for neither the value of in- 


DECISION. 


119 


formation, nor the necessity of redeeming time, 
was very powerfully felt. I need not add, that 
this malignant foe was all the while insinuating 
himself into my powers, with an adhesiveness 
similar to that, with which “the intervolved 
serpents ” clung to Laocoon. With an increas¬ 
ing desire to know every thing which came 
within my reach, I felt less ability to fix to any 
one single object, and the most trivial circum¬ 
stance had power to divert the attention. The 
period arrived, in which an opportunity was 
afforded to devote myself entirely to literary 
pursuits, but I could not lay aside this injurious 
habit. Resolutions to reform were repeatedly 
made in an excited state of feeling, and new 
plans of study drawn out to such a minute de¬ 
tail, as would have required the most decided 
spirit to execute them. These were inserted 
in a common-place book, to be filled up every 
day. The undertaking presently became irk¬ 
some, and a line was written underneath, to the 
following effect, “this account in future to be 
kept weeklyand the common-place book was 
of course soon forgotten. You would bitterly 


120 


DECISION. 


lament over the inconstancy of human nature, 
could you look over my numerous papers and 
memoranda. Scarcely a purpose carried into 
execution; scarcely a theme or essay completed. 
When it was expedient, that a composition 
should be produced, the time of writing it, was 
so long delayed, that a great deal would have 
been given, could it have been done by proxy. 
Indeed the plans and skeletons of others were 
occasionally adopted. If an appointment was 
made to meet a friend, there was a great w ant 
of punctuality ; generally half an hour too late. 
If an opinion was advanced in one company, 1 
was sometimes betrayed in holding the contrary 
in another: so that I became at length almost 
proverbial for indecision. Sometimes I have 
felt disposed to attribute so base a quality to a 
feeble constitution; for you are aware, I am not 
of an athletic make: many of my friends used 
to consider me consumptive, and a good old 
woman once told a friend of mine, w ho again 
told it to me, that I should certainly not reach 
my thirtieth year. An anxiety, probably, about 
the opinions entertained, with respect to my 


DECISION. 


121 


abilities, tended to unsettle my character. 
These were deemed to be worse than wretched. 
The partiality of your friendship did not, if you 
remember, hinder the conviction of my discover¬ 
ing a want of talent. I have myself often won¬ 
dered, that with an unquestionable thirst for 
knowledge, there should be little or no ability to 
make the slightest intellectual achievement. 
However, this prevailing notion of my mental 
insufficiency, though it did not entirely cool my 
ardour, often prevented me from being “invest¬ 
ed,” to speak in the language of a glorious au¬ 
thor whom I shall have occasion to mention, 
“with a glowing atmosphere of passion, under 
the influence of which, the cold dictates of rea¬ 
son take fire, and spring into active powers.” 
Many persons of a volatile disposition are ren¬ 
dered more so, by the many ineffectual resolu¬ 
tions which they make to amend. The schemes 
that they project, require a great degree of self- 
denial, much endurance of fatigue, and a res¬ 
pectable share of knowledge and forethought; 
but they seldom pause to enquire beforehand, 
whether these resources are at their command. 


F 


122 


DECISION. 


This was, no doubt, another cause of my inde¬ 
cision. But to cut short this part of the narra¬ 
tive. At length, the want of regular applica¬ 
tion to study, a consciousness of little or no 
improvement, and still less of pleasure in my 
pursuits; or in other words, my old enemy, 
indecision, gathering strength with my years, 
reduced my life to complete wretchedness. At 
one time, while musing on my melancholy con¬ 
dition, and looking abroad upon the face of 
nature, I could not but be struck with the order 
and harmony of every object which presented 
itself. The glorious king of day was setting, 
and it is morally certain, said I, that he will 
ascend the east to morrow with his accustomed 
majesty; the moon is just risen, and she know- 
eth her appointed time; the stars are constant 
in performing their courses, and the seasons 
continue to revolve agreeably to their stated 
order; while T, for whose happiness these ordi¬ 
nances w ere fixed, am in my purposes, as well 
as in my goodness, “like the morning cloud and 
early dew, which soon goeth away.” The re¬ 
flection was insupportable; and I felt as if I 


DECISION. 


123 


must conquer my habits, or die under their in¬ 
fluence. In this state of mind it was, I ran to 
my study, and took down Foster’s Essay on De¬ 
cision of Character. I had often read this 
before, but closed the book simply remarking, 
“ah well, it is a splendid instance of rhetorical 
flourish; there may, perhaps, have been a few 
examples such as the author describes, but I 
cannot help thinking, that he has looked at them 
as through a telescope; it is not the greatness 
of nature, and no doubt Mr. F. has a very 
powerful developement of that organ which 
Phrenologists call Ideality; a power which in¬ 
spires exaggeration and enthusiasm, and aims 
to elevate and endow with a splendid excellence, 
whatever is presented to the mind.” But I be¬ 
gan the perusal of it now with a very different 
class of feelings. When I came to the third 
sentence which reads, “it is a poor and disgrace¬ 
ful thing not to be able to reply with some 
degree of certainty, to the simple question, 
what will you be? what will you do? I cried 
allowed ab imo pectore, from the inmost recesses 
of my soul, amen! amen! I am very sure I 


124 


DECISION. 


went through the whole with an abstraction of 
mind equal to what Sir Joshua Reynolds com¬ 
manded, when he leaned his arm on the mantle 
piece, and remained unmoved till he had read the 
whole of Johnson’s Life of Savage. You begin 
to be very anxious, no doubt, to learn the sequel. 
But you must give me leave here to indulge 
in a little prosing. I remembered Dr. Watts, 
after speaking in praise of some papers in the 
Spectator and Tatler, adds, “they are not im¬ 
proper to lie in parlours or summer houses, or 
places of usual residence, to entertain our 
thoughts in any moments of leisure, or vacant 
hours that occur.” Methought that this truly 
admirable man would have spoken in very dif¬ 
ferent language of Mr. Foster’s Essay. He 
would have said, “this is a performance ad¬ 
dressed to your active powers; this is intended 
to furnish you with a weapon against indolence 
and every other failing part of your nature. 
Take this with you into your closet, and when 
any thought arises in your mind prompting you 
to act a more mauly part than usual, sieze it up 
with avidity; it will inspire you with energy. 


DECISION. 


125 


give you a soul if you have not one. It will 
lead you to dwell on the brighter side of your 
character, to think what you can do, and not 
what you are unable to perform. There never 
was such an engine invented before, so adapted 
to combat from the constitution every element 
of dulness, lassitude, discouragement, and des¬ 
pair.” My dear friend, I do not know what 
your feelings are upon the subject, but T have 
always thought, that the eloquent reviewer of 
this essay has not spoken enough of its import¬ 
ant practical tendency. It is able to inspire the 
heroism of a martyr in the work of intellectual, 
moral, and religious improvement. I should be 
glad to be informed, what species of prejudice 
or superstition, what peculiar disadvantages of 
birth or fortune, what expectation of evil, and 
what shower of taunts could extinguish the ar¬ 
dour which its sentiments, if rightly received, 
cannot fail to kindle? Besides which, the lan¬ 
guage employed is so surprising; words are 
made use of, which were never before so appro¬ 
priately adopted; they seem to be formed from 
the very heart of oak, and to afford a perfect 


126 


DECISION. 


explanation of what is meant by “ the sound 
echoing to the sense.” You cannot but sup¬ 
pose a very exalted opinion was formed of the 
author’s powers. It was indeed a considerable 
time before I could master my propensity to 
think him something more than human. And 
while you pointed to Leicester,* as the centre 
of attraction, the abode of “sublime and hallow¬ 
ed eloquence,” my imagination was perpetually 
reverting to Bristol,f another selected spot 
where genius seemed to be enthroned amidst 
the splendours of Homeric majesty, and to ex¬ 
hibit a sight 

u Astonishing as chaos, as the bloom 
Of blowing Eden fair, as heaven sublime.” 

But to resume the narrative. I presently lost 
my vexation, and began to think about invigo¬ 
rating my own powers. I had observed several 
students paste up in their studies, two or three 
striking passages from the Hebrew Bible, or 
Greek Testament, with a view to remind them 
of their duty, and to urge them to redeem the 

* Where Mr. Hall lately resided, 
t Where the author of the Essay lives. 


DECISION. 


127 


time, sacred to that purpose. This I never did; 
but often resolved to do it, while labouring 
under my infirm character. I carefully marked 
in my Hebrew Bible, all the passages in the 
Book of Proverbs which relate to sloth and in¬ 
dustry ; and have still in my possession the sheet 
of drawing paper which I bought to write them 
upon. However, I really did copy out Sal¬ 
lusts preface to his Jugurthine War, which 
you know is a very elegant piece of composition 
on what the mind is able to achieve, if it will 
but march to glory in the road of virtue ; ubi ad 
gloriam virtutis via grassatur. I also made ex¬ 
tracts from the lives of men, eminent for appli¬ 
cation in their different callings, such as Buffon, 
Linnaeus, and others of like description: and I 
really thought my old enemy trembled, at my 
risings, when I read the following account of 
Pascal “ For many years he relinquished all 
purely human sciences. But having been tor¬ 
mented by a most severe tooth-ache , which 
almost wholly deprived him of rest , he sought 
by intense application the means of mitigating 
his pain; and the discoveries which he then 


128 


DECISION. 


made on the cycloidal curve, are, even at the 
present day, reckoned among the greatest efforts 
of the human mind.” But I was never a great 
advocate for making many extracts, lest like the 
Athenians, I should employ that time in pre¬ 
parations and decrees, which ought to be spent in 
action. It occurred to me, that to fill the study 
walls, or to cram my port-folio with proofs of 
what I could do, was not half so manly as seeking 
for proofs of what I had done. Notwithstand¬ 
ing, one effort more of this kind was made ; for 
though I thought my ardour would never sub¬ 
side again, yet the better way of securing its 
force seemed to be, to copy out several striking 
passages from Mr. Foster’s Essay, and to fill 
every pocket with some of them, as Porson is 
said to have done his, with small editions of the 
Greek Classics. My object in doing so, was, 
that I might always have the opportunity of 
refreshing my memory with some of the 
wonderful sentiments which it contains. 

I arranged the quotations under four separate 
heads. First, Passages shewing that decision 
qualifies us to perform very noble achievements. 


DECISION. 


129 


Secondly, Passages explaining the principal 
elements of this quality, and furnishing direc¬ 
tions how it may be acquired. Thirdly, Pas¬ 
sages fitted to give a tone and consistence to the 
active powers. And lastly, Passages adapted 
to convince me, that I could study with success 
as well as others. You don’t suppose that I am 
going to trouble you with these arrangements 
amplified. A few under the third head may be 
mentioned, because they are more suitable to 
my necessity. “ To know how to obtain a de¬ 
termination, is one of the first symptoms of a 
rationally decisive character—the last resource 
o this character, is hard inflexible pertinacity , 
on which it may be allowed to rest its strength, 
after finding it can be effectual in no milder 
forms:—the manner of a person actuated by 
such a spirit, seems to say. Do you think that I 
would not disdain to adopt a purpose which I 
would not devote my utmost force to effect; or 
that having thus devoted my exertions, I will 
intermit or withdraw them, through indolence, 
debility, or caprice? This spirit comes on him 
in the morning as soon as he recovers his 

f 3 


130 


DECISION. 


consciousness, and commands and impels him 
through the day, with a power from which he 
could not emancipate himself if he would—a per¬ 
sisting untameable efficacy of soul.—It was the 
calmness of an intensity kept uniform by the 
nature of the human mind forbidding it to be 
more, and by the character of the individual 
forbidding it to be less.—The moment of finish¬ 
ing his plans in deliberation, and commencing 
them in action, was the same—The great cause 
which was so languid a thing in the hands of 
many of its advocates, assumed in his adminis¬ 
trations an unmitigable urgency—an intense 
necessity of action—this dedication of their 
whole being to their office, this eternal abjura¬ 
tion of all the quiescent feelings.—If his judg¬ 
ment is really decided, let him commit himself 
irretrievably, by doing something which shall 
compel him to do more, which shall necessitate 
him to do all.” But your patience is exhausted, 
and T shall not detain you much longer. A great 
reformation, of course, took place. The first 
thing I proceeded to do, was to clear my vo¬ 
cabulary of such phrases as these: “What a 


DECISION. 


131 


task!—I can never do that—O Demosthenes, 
how long some of your sentences are!—What a 
bore to turn over the Lexicon!—Would that 
they, who caused the confusion of languages 

had, instead of attempting to build the Tower 

% 

of Babel, been companions of Enceladus, who 
was overwhelm’d beneath Mount iEtna.” I 
absolutely became fond of every thing that was 
difficult, and felt no ardour without attempting 
what seemed to challenge my industry and 
application.—A signal advantage was obtained 
which I had almost forgotten. Hitherto I had 
frequently spent myself in acquiring knowledge, 
without being sufficiently careful to retain it in 
my memory, which occasioned much discourage¬ 
ment. It seemed to me a most important thing, 
that “ the passions should not be wasted,” that 
the object before me should “not be like the 
shapes of moon-light, or like Ossian’s ghosts, 
dim forms of uncircumscribed shade;” but “like 
the Egyptian pyramids, which appear to tra¬ 
vellers with a luminous distinctness.” What 
pleased me so much was, that I could always 
engage in my studies full of animation. Give 


13 2 


DECISION. 


me, said I, any subject, which contains a clear 
and determinate idea, that I can comprehend, 
and I shall not ask his holiness the pope, nor 
any man on the face of the earth, to assist me 
in pursuing it through its different ramifications. 
With what revenge did I expel from my study, 
and bar mv door against all those books which 
seemed to be helps to indolence, and substitutes 
for thought! bones and skeletons were crumbled 
to dust, and nothing suffered to remain, but 
what reminded me of muscle and sinew, mar¬ 
row and fatness. You may, perhaps, imagine 
that the hardihood which I acquired, repressed 
in some measure the tender sensibilites of my 
nature. I think I am able, with a good con¬ 
science, to assert the contrary. When I saw a 
man sinking beneath his adversity: “ my suffer¬ 
ing friend,” said I, “bear up a while; other 
men have suffered much greater things; a reso¬ 
lute mind is omnipotent; difficulty is a stimulus 
and a triumph to a strong spirit; the joys of 
conquest are the joys of man.” If he were 
under the influence of religious principles and 
feelings, my remark was, “you may rest as- 


DECISION. 


133 


sured that adversity is the proper condition in 
which you should move. But in this rejoice, 
there is not the smallest doubt, that were you in 
affluence, your faith in the crucified Immanuel 

would lose its simplicity, and become treacher- 

* _ * 

ous. The storm will soon be over, when vou 
will arrive at the fair haven, and peacefully re¬ 
cline with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the 
kingdom of your Father.” 

“ O passi graviora : dabit Deus his quoque finem 
****** 

-forsan et haec olim meminisse juvabit. 

****** 

Per varios casus, per tot discrimina rerum, 

Tendimus in Latium. ” 

I may just observe in conclusion, that I lent 
Foster to every young man I knew, thinking he 
would return it with an account of some intel¬ 
lectual or moral revolution. But no: the uni¬ 
form language was, “ it is a fine Essay;” said 
too, with the same cold feeling with which I 
have heard a lady remark, “ Shakespeare was 
a clever man!” I resolved to lend it no more; 
so I put it into my library, exclaiming in the 



134 


DECISION. 


words of my favourite, “ I wish there were any 
thing like mankind among the beings called 
men.” 

I am, 

Most faithfully yours.” 


ON ENTERPRISE. 


“ Though it is confessed great and splendid actions are not the ordinary 
employment of life, but must, from their nature, be reserved for high 
and eminent occasions; yet that system is essentially defective which 
leaves no room for their cultivation. They are important, both from 
their immediate advantage and their remoter influence. They always 
save, and they always illustrate the age and nation in which they appear. 
They raise the standard of morals; they arrest the progress of degener¬ 
acy ; they diffuse a lustre over the path of life: monuments of the 
greatness of the human soul, they present to the world the august 
image of virtue in her sublimest form, from which streams of light and 
glory issue to remote times and ages; while their commemoration, by 
the pen of historians and poets, awakens in distant bosoms the sparks of 
kindred excellence .”—Halloa Modern Infidelity. 


To adopt the same sentiments, and to engage 
in the same pursuits with those who have pre¬ 
ceded them, is a distinguishing characteristic of 
mankind. Every plan is readily put into exe¬ 
cution, because we are surrounded with prece¬ 
dents, and encouraged by daily examples. But 
whoever attempts a design, which wants the 
sanction of experience, is thought by many, not 
only to transgress the limits prescribed to hu¬ 
manity, but even to act a part which is incom- 



136 


ENTERPRISE. 


patible with sound wisdom. From these, and 
other causes, which might be mentioned, it is 
seldom we witness actions of bold daring. 
While education, and common opinion are ne¬ 
cessary to form the character, and impose a 
check on the wild sallies of youth, they often 
bury in deep obscurity, those latent powers of 
the mind, to the operation of which the world is 
indebted, for much of its moral grandeur. Man 
of the deeds of enterprise, which emblazon tht 
page of history, seem to have taken their rise, 
not more from a course of previous discipline, 
than from some unexpected events, or peculi¬ 
arity of situation. Nevertheless, were it pos¬ 
sible, by any system of instruction, to give a 
full dev elopement of all the mental faculties, 
great undertakings would, no doubt, be abun¬ 
dantly more numerous; though the probability 
of so much ardour, being exhausted in ignoble 
pursuits, renders this circumstance less a mat¬ 
ter of regret. In the meantime, some are apt 
to suspect, that in a solicitude to place before 
our youth as many obstacles as possible to deter 
them from the path of ruin, we have, as a nation, 


ENTERPRISE. 


137 


lost our way, in endeavouriug to excite the 
nobler part of their nature to adventures of dig¬ 
nity and excellence. To mention the peculiar 
causes which excite to deeds of brave and 
hazardous accomplishment, is no easy task. It 
may, however, be affirmed, that they proceed 
in general from a dissatisfaction with the tame 
pursuits of life. There is impressed on all the 
objects with which the man of enterprise is 
familiar, a dull monotony. His passions are, 
for the most, in such a state of excitement, as to 
forbid him quietly to engage in actions of com¬ 
mon interest, and he is led forward in a career 
of greatness over which he feels he has but 
little controul. 

As no man becomes extremely wicked on a 
sudden, so the character now under contempla¬ 
tion is, for the most part, gradual in his move¬ 
ments. Perfectly capable of setting up a firm 
purpose on a basis which cannot be shaken, he 
proceeds, step by step, to do something which 
assures him he has larger resources, and a greater 
command of energy than those around him. He 
engages in many mock fights, before he enters 


138 


ENTERPRISE. 


into actual combat. The weaker passions of his 
nature are placed beneath his power, and the 
opposition and sufferings of others, are like 
the cords which became as tow in the hands of 
Sampson. He is very often astounded at the 
stirrings of his soul, when no object appears in 
view, in the pursuit of which he might be in¬ 
duced to expend his fire or hazard his existence. 
All this while, every principle of action is 
gathering fresh strength, every principle of ac¬ 
tion becomes more strongly fortified, and “ the 
spirits are collecting all the heart.” Thus pre¬ 
pared, it is certain he will, unless arrested by 
death, soon burst forth in a manner, which will 
excite our admiration, and make us weep as 
though our eyes were a fountain of tears. 

It is a truly lamentable fact, that by far the 
greater number of enterprises, which the world 
has seen, came under this latter description. 
We need but to open the pages of ancient his- 
history, to meet with characters exhibiting a 
degree of energy, and a contempt of danger, 
above the reach of common capacity. To such 


ENTERPRISE. 


139 


a pitch of elevation is our astonishment some¬ 
times raised, that we are tempted to imagine the 
historian is amusing us with a mere fiction of the 
mind, rather than relating facts which have had a 
real existence. The extraordinary achievements 
recorded by the masterly pens of the Greek and 
Roman writers, exhibit, for the most part, such 
ignoble passions and infamous designs, that it is 
difficult to select a character whom we may with 
safety imitate. They were enterprises of devas¬ 
tation and terror, and deserve regard, not for 
their moral tendency, but for the invincible effi¬ 
cacy which they display of the human intellect, 
and the hints which they may suggest to a pure 
mind, that by devoting the same ardour to a good 
cause, we may come near, in the essential ele¬ 
ments of our nature, to prophets and apostles. 
There are but few qualities in military prowess 
which invite the attention. It is the offspring 
of animosity, and is reinforced by all the angry 
passions of the soul; it wields the instruments of 
cruelty; severs the ties which bind mankind 
together; and revels amid tears, agony, and 


140 


ENTERPRISE. 


death. Although we are led by an irresistible 
charm to follow Alexander, Hannibal, Caesar, 
and Pompey through all their marches, dangers, 
and battles, it is impossible, if we indulge a 
moment’s serious reflection, not to feel remorse 
at that state of mind, which compels our admi¬ 
ration and awakens our sympathies. We can¬ 
not forget that the energy of the warrior is 
directly pointed to the happiness of the species. 
His enterprise consists in defacing beauty, in 
trampling on innocence and love; in thinning 
the earth of its inhabitants, and in prematurely 
sending souls into eternity. “While the phi¬ 
lanthropist is devising means to mitigate the 
evils, and augment the happiness of the world, 
a fellow-worker together with God in exploring 
and giving effect to the benevolent tendencies 
of nature, the warrior is revolving in the gloomy 
recesses of his capacious mind, plans of future 
devastation and ruin. Prisons crowded with 
captives, cities emptied of their inhabitants, 
fields desolate and waste, are among the proud¬ 
est of his trophies. The fabric of his fame is 
cemented with tears and blood; and if his name 


ENTERPRISE. 


141 


is wafted to the ends of the earth, it is in the 
shrill cry of suffering humanity, in the curses 
and imprecations of those whom his sword has 
reduced to despair.”* 

In those parts of the world where the light of 
Christianity is diffused, the most appalling en¬ 
terprises in guilt are less numerous, and gener¬ 
ally of a shorter continuance than such as are 
witnessed in the pagan world. Besides that it 
is the natural tendency of the gospel, to correct 
what is barbarous and inhuman, it makes disco¬ 
very of the most awful facts, and as allusion is 
frequently made to those in the institutions and 
systems of instruction which regulate the differ¬ 
ent nations and empires of Christendom, their 
influence, it may reasonably be expected, would 
be widely felt. Wherever there is the faintest 
idea of such a futurity as Revelation makes 
known, the slightest expectation of endless pun¬ 
ishment, as the consequence of criminal practice 
in this life, it is not surprising if death should 
be invested with an awe and a terror sufficient 
to melt away the schemes and purposes of the 


* Hall’s Reflections on War. 


142 


ENTERPRISE. 


most desperate and abandoned. It is in the en¬ 
tire absence of the true religion, in the utter 
destitution of every thought concerning God and 
a hereafter; in other words, it is in the complete 
panoply of scepticism and infidelity, that the 
hero in vice pursues his undeviating progress 
through fresh scenes of danger and horror, till the 
termination of his mortal career. We cannot 
quit this part of our subject, without referring 
to our obligations to Christianity, and especially 
to Him who entered into the world to tame our 
savage natures, to dignify and bless us in our 
present condition, and to make us candidates 
for a glorious and happy immortality. 

But it is to enterprise, as displayed in some 
career of virtue, that we would chiefly confine 
the present observations. The rare possession 
of a quality, which prompts to actions of heroic 
virtue, together with the powerful causes which 
excite to the performance of them, induces the 
supposition, that it is the privilege of birth, 
education, or of fortune. We must not, how¬ 
ever, infer from hence, that there is no room for 
bravery, except among those on whom nature 


ENTERPRISE. 


143 


and rank have showered their favours. As 
many a noble and generous soul is concealed in 
obscurity, so there are many adventures of a 
laudable character which are hid from the view 
of mankind : nor can it be deemed essential to 
every species of honourable enterprise that it be 
performed as upon a theatre. While it is a 
sufficient distinction to engage in that which 
commends itself to our own consciences, as being 
noble, there are three peculiarities, the one or 
other of which marks almost every man’s his¬ 
tory, and affords him ample scope for deeds of 
greatness. These are, the conquest of ignorance, 
the subjugation of inveterate habits, and the 
adoption of sagacious and prudent measures to 
escape from desperate circumstances. 

The want of opportunity which the greater 
part of mankind experience for acquiring in¬ 
formation is obvious to all; and the easy com¬ 
placency with which many suffer “the lack of 
knowledge” is no less palpable and affecting; 
but we occasionally meet with spirits that break 
loose from the fetters by which they have been 
bound; and their conduct on this occasion, ex- 


144 


ENTERPRISE. 


hibits an energy far superior to what is seen in 
ordinary men. There is nothing in the magna¬ 
nimity of the warrior, which merits warmer 
applause than that which distinguishes these 
characters, while pursuing their unfaltering 
course to the regions of light and knowledge. 

To persevere without discouragement, notwith- 

\ 

standing the repeated remembrance of the loss 
of early advantages; to commence the vigorous 
exercise of faculties, which have for numerous 
years been steeped in the slumbers of ignorance: 
to proceed with unabated ardour in the midst of 
ineffectual efforts, having at the same time in full 
view, the obstacles which have been raised up by 
age or time, by place or even nature herself, 
evinces a noble daring of mind, in comparison of 
which, the most splended example of military 
enterprise is obsure and debasing. 

Nor does humanity appear under a more 
brilliant aspect, when in some propitious hour, 
a man resolves to conquer habits, which are 
characterized by different degrees of vice, and 
which from long practice, are wrought into the 
very texture of his being. Hitherto their 


ENTERPRISE. 


145 


dominion has been sovereign. They have receiv¬ 
ed strength and support from a corrupt nature. 
Every surrounding circumstance has possessed 
attractions to invite them into exercise. The 
society with which their unhappy victim has 
mingled, the wanderings of his imagination, 
and every passing thought, have augmented 
their force, so that it was as certain he would 
more or less be controlled by their habits, as 
that the sun would rise. How powerful the 
causes which excite him to repel and vanquish 
foes so hostile to his dignity and happiness. 
How must his mind open all at once, to the 
charms of moral excellence; and what a readi¬ 
ness must he be conscious of, to embark in the 
most difficult acts of virtue. In the mean time, 
it is necessary he should be continually watchful, 
expostulate with himself on almost every occa¬ 
sion, and lest he should relapse into his former 
course, bar his heart against every temptation. 
Now the war which he wages with his passions 
and propensities, joined to the objects, in the 
pursuit of which he exerts his mightiest ener¬ 
gies, affords a more refined specimen of heroism, 


G 


146 


ENTERPRISE. 


than we have yet contemplated. It is, indeed, 
such a display of moral beauty and grandeur, 
that where the change is radical, and proceeds 
on principles in harmony with inspiration, the 
achievement ceases to be the enterprise of man, 
and becomes the power of God. 

Many are placed in circumstances, from 
which there appear no ostensible means of ef¬ 
fecting a deliverance. They are without a clue 
to direct their steps out of the labyrinth; and 
the only alternative which seems to remain, is to 
be reconciled to their fate, or quietly to surren¬ 
der themselves to the diversified casualties and 
hardships of the world. It is an adventure of 
no mean order, which is directed to the contri¬ 
vance of measures, with a view to escape from 
so desperate a condition. Where the plans are 
executed with wisdom and caution, they cannot 
fail to compel sentiments of deep respect, though 
they should prove ineffectual in the end. We 
bow to the invincible ardor of a mind, which, 
on the exercise of conclusive reasonings, and a 
mature judgment, continues through a series of 
untried actions, amidst greetings of pity, deri- 


ENTERPRISE. 


147 


siou, and contempt. Nor can the elements 
which enter into the composition of a true hero, 
be said to exist where there is a disposition to 
shrink from any project, that appears to promise 
the faintest hope of success. 

The transition will not be thought violent, 
if from the consideration of these different kinds 
of enterprise, we proceed to glance at that which 
is political. It is in the display of this, that 
nations and empires have been principally inte¬ 
rested. This too, more than any other, has given 
birth to the numerous despots and conspirators, 
whose lives blacken the pages which record their 
histories. We recoil with horror, at the view 
of a mind, busy in plotting the ruin of thou¬ 
sands, and under the pretence of asserting the 
claims of liberty, to break up the established 
order of society, and to impose such regulations, 
as give full play to the vilest passions, and en¬ 
courage the most atrocious practices. But 
important advantages have arisen to the world 
from a revolution in politics. Where this has 
seemed to be necessary, and the scheme evi¬ 
dently devised with a view to the general good, 

g 2 


148 


ENTERPRISE. 


if has been regarded as an instance of noble and 
disinterested generosity. Those who, in ancient 
time were able to carry the measure into effect, 
“were honoured and obeyed in their lives; 
and after their deaths bewailed and adored.” 
This praise seems peculiarly to have belonged to 
Lycurgus. “ No civil or politic constitutions,” 
to sneak in the language of the elegant writer 
just quoted, “ have been more celebrated than 
his, by the best authors of ancient story and 
times.”* 

But philosophy is also able to boast of her 
mighty achievements. This, though not the 
greatest, is one of the distinguishing features of 
modern days. The discoveries which have been 
made, with respect to both matter and mind, 
are so numerous and wonderful, that the most 
enlightened sages of antiquity are compelled to 
hide their diminished heads. It was in the true 
spirit of enterprise that Lord Bacon, detecting 
the imperfections of the philosophy which prevail¬ 
ed in his times, subdued the tyranny which it 
had usurped over the learned world for more 
# Sir William Temple’s Essay on Heroic Virtue. 


ENTERPRISE. I4f) 

than two thousand years, and by removing the 
stumbling blocks which it raised up, against the 
progress of true knowledge, opened the way for 
so many glorious discoveries.* It was under 
the influence of enterprise that Sir Isaac New¬ 
ton, treading ‘‘on the high places,” of the noble 
lord, committed all hypotheses in reasonings on 
natural philosophy to the winds, as being vague 
and uncertain, and by the adoption of a few 
simple and incontrovertible principles or axioms, 
laid an unshaken foundation, on which that 
science has erected a splendid superstructure.f 
It was in the same spirit of bold daring, that 

* See Dr. Hatton’s Mathematical Dictionary under the 
article Bacon. 

t “ Sir Isaac Newton, the greatest of natural philoso¬ 
phers, has given an example well worthy of imitation, by 
laying down the common principles or axioms, on which the 
reasonings in natural philosophy are built. Before this was 
done, the reasonings of philosophers in that science, were as 
vague and uncertain as they are in most others. Nothing 
was fixed; all was dispute and controversy: But by this 
happy expedient, a solid foundation is laid in that science, 
and a noble superstructure is raised upon it, about which 
there is now no more dispute or controversy among men of 
knowledge, than there is about the conclusions of mathe¬ 
matics.”— Dr. Reid on the Intellectual Powers, Essay 1. Cap. 
2.—Principles taken for granted. 


150 


ENTERPRISE. 


the late Dr. Reid, disengaging his attention, in 
some degree, from mathematic and moral studies, 
to which he was more immediately devoted,*' 
tracked Mr. Hume through all his metaphysical 
subtleties; shewed by an irresistible force of 
evidence, the folly of his reasonings; confounded 
scepticism, and preserved the day-light and sun, 
to “ the whole region of morals, over which, 
the infidel had boldly aimed to pour a more than 
Egyptian darkness.”! 

Notwithstanding these eminent displays of 
that great quality now under consideration, 
they are entirely eclipsed by the extraordinary 
exertions of religious zeal which characterize 
the present age. Of the glory and grandeur of 
these, it is impossible to be too deeply impressed. 
The missionary seems to be inspired with an air 
above humanity. In accomplishing the eternal 
good of the species, “his longings and concep¬ 
tions, overleap all the barriers of geography— 
and in obedience to a heaven-born movement of 

* Vide Dr. Hutton’s Mathematical Dictionary under the 
article Gregory. 

t Mr. Hall’s Sermon on Modern Infidelity. 


ENTERPRISE. 


151 


principle within him, he separates himself to 
some big and busy enterprise, which is to tell on 
the moral destinies of the world.”* While it 
would be extremely unchristian to suppose that 
this subject has not engaged the attention of pious 
minds, at almost every period, it is certain no view 
of it has hitherto roused to such wonderful ac¬ 
tivities as we behold. These are the successful 
fruits arising, in part, from Dr. Carey’s sublime 
motto, *‘ Expect great things of God; attempt 
great things for God—which may justly be con¬ 
sidered, as profound an apophthegm in divine 
science as any of lord Bacon’s aphorisms in phi- 
lsophy. Its practical adoption has led to the 
surrender of all secular honours and emoluments; 
it has closed the eyes against every attraction, 
presented by sublunary scenes and objects; it 
has changed the patriot into the citizen of the 
world. Operating on a mind which glows with 
the most enlarged and refined philanthrophy, 
and which is imbued with a clear and strong 
faith in the promises of Revelation, it has 
brought into existence, a bravery entirely its 
* Dr Chalmer’s Discourses on Astronomy. 


J52 


ENTERPRISE. 


own. The great things which the missionary 
attempts, consist not in relinquishing the sweets 
of home, and all the fond endearments of early 
companionship, not in undergoing a dangerous 
voyage, or in exposing himself to an injurious 
climate. These are but preparatory to more 
adventurous steps. The weapons of his warfare 
are directed against a spiritual usurpation. The 
holy fire and impetuosity burning in his soul, 
make him equal to a conflict with moral evil, in 
all the appalling and frantic shapes which it 
assumes. In the name of the Lord his G od, he 
is able to penetrate its deepest entrenchments, 
and to tear down its loftiest embattlements, and 
where before nothing prevailed but misery, 
dreariness, and the shadows of death, there is 
seen to shine, by means of his enterprise, “ the 
Sun of Righteousness, arising with healing in 
his wings.” 

Sad must be the ascendency of that prejudice 
which denies the superiority of these achieve¬ 
ments to every other which might be mentioned. 
Nor can we better conclude this desultory 
review of some of the principal kinds of enter- 


ENTERPRISE. 


153 


prise, than by remarking, that while it is very 
possible to exhaust our vigor, and to contend 
with danger, in pursuits which are illaudable 
and even degrading, we may in missionary la¬ 
bours, give loose to all the energies of the soul, 
without the least apprehension of exceeding the 
limits prescribed by wisdom and discretion. It 
is an enterprise kindled by the most generous 
benevolence: is reinforced bv the sublimest of 
motives—the extension of the Redeemer’s king¬ 
dom; and aims at the everlasting salvation of 
beings, myriads of whom are daily passing into 
an awful eternity, buried beneath the guilt and 
impurities of superstition and idolatry. 









■ 














• f * '■ 





























ON SUCCESS. 


AxXa ra to lavra, sis /u.iv ama.% xai @pot%v y ^poyoy aimyii * xai 
cupodpa nvQrjffiy evi Tcm sXviatv, ay rvj£p* to; Xfovu 8 s puparat, 
xai rrspt avrtt xafappu’ aurncsp *yap oixiat, olp^aty xai <1rXoiou, xai 
ray aXXa’y tojv TOiovrwy, Ta xaruQsv toxypoTarct slvat Se7, outw xat 
rwv irpa^suv ras ap%as * ai Tas viroQsotis alriQtTt xat Otxatas si vat 
vpojvxtt. — Demosthenes Olynthiaca Secunda. 

Such measures succeed for once, and continue for a short season: they may, 
perhaps, even bloom with promising expectations; but the principle on 
which they are conducted is, in time, discovered to be treacherous, 
whence they cease to become effectual, of their own accord. For I am 
of opinion, that as the lower parts of an edifice, a vessel, and other 
buildings of a similar description, are required to be the securest; so is 
it necessary that the beginning and foundation of actions, should be just 
and true. 

“He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth 
forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and what¬ 
soever he doeth shall prosper.”— David. 


Every action of interest and importance 
furnishes abundant topics to the moralist, whe¬ 
ther he considers it in reference to its beginning, 
progress, or final accomplishment. But the 
views which are taken of the former two, are 
chiefly limited to such observations as evince their 
subserviency to the last: so that the completion 



156 


SUCCESS. 


of their desires, or in other words, success, 
is the supreme object at which all men aim. 
It is not so much from the exertion attendant 
on business, that the merchant derives his 
satisfaction, as from the increase of wealth, 
which enables him to enlarge his sources of 
happiness. If the mustering of armies and the 
trumpet of war, kindle the heroism of the war¬ 
rior, it is when the battle is fought, and the 
victory won, that he is conscious of his proudest 
joys. And though the Christian in a proper 
state of feeling, cheerfully resists sin, and closes 
his heart against the false attractions of the 
world, it is in being clothed with a Redeemer’s 
righteousness, and in possessing a peace which 
passeth all understanding, that he meets with 
the consummation of his wishes. 

Success is a term frequently applied to con¬ 
duct, which exhibits not the faintest semblance 
of virtue. The most criminal excesses in guilt; 
enterprises, at the sight of which hurnanitv 
bleeds, have in every age been suffered to usurp 
the title. We shall, however, confine the men¬ 
tion of it on the present occasion, to such prac- 


SUCCESS. 


157 


(ices as are not inconsistent with truth or 
goodness. 

It but rarely falls to the lot of man, to be led 
through successive scenes of pleasure in his 
journey to the wished-for goal. The happiness 
ol which he is in quest, is preceded by many 
circumstances extremely repugnant to his na¬ 
ture, and which often hinder the distant good 
from being realized and enjoyed. He who has 
attained to success that is at all lasting, is 
usually conversant with fatigue, repeated dis¬ 
appointment, and numerous hardships. His¬ 
tory does not afford a more shining illustration 
of this remark, than in the character of the 
famous orator, from one of whose speeches we 
have selected a motto for the present essay: 
and as it is replete with interest, it may with 
propriety be inserted in this place. Demos¬ 
thenes was determined to reach the pinnacle of 
fame, in the noble art of eloquence: but there 
lay against the accomplishment of his object, 
what ordinary minds would have deemed to be 
insurmountable obstacles. Besides the diffi¬ 
culties which generally accompany every mo- 


J58 


SUCCESS. 


mentous undertaking, he had to contend with 

the impediments of nature. He was so unpre¬ 
pared for any successful attempt in rhetoric, 

that he could not articulate the first letter of 
the word. It was his misfortune to be distin¬ 
guished for weakness of lungs, a harshness of 
pronunciation, and a distortion of features; 
joined to the most vulgar and inelegant action. 
Under these disadvantages did he embark in 
the profession of an orator; and as if nature was 
intent in this instance, of confounding the 
labour of art, his first essay was a total failure. 
Notwithstanding, his great rival Cicero informs 
us, that he became victorious by industry and 
diligence. Aware of the natural aversion of the 
mind to study, he confined himself in a subter¬ 
raneous cavern for that purpose. To repress 
every curiosity to appear in public, while 
endeavouring to execute his design, he sub¬ 
mitted to have one half of his head shaved, and 
to mention only another proof of his persevering 
application, he transcribed eight or even ten 
times, the history of Thucydides, that he might 
not only imitate, but acquire the force and 


success. 159 

energy of that great historian. The success 
with which he was crowned, was the most 
brilliant. 

-“ Whose resistless eloquence 

Wielded at will that fierce democratic. 

Shook th’ arsenal and fulmin’d over Greece, 

To Macedon and Artaxerxes throne.” 

Although this narrative includes several cir¬ 
cumstances which render it extraordinary, it 
deserves attention, inasmuch as it affords proof 
of labour and anxiety being the usual fore¬ 
runners of that kind of happiness we are 
speaking of. It is moreover attended with an 
advantage peculiar to itself; or one that we 
should be unable to derive from a story of com¬ 
mon interest; which is, that the ardour here 
displayed, may suggest to a thoughtful mind, 
that the path to prosperity is not beset with so 
many impassable barriers, as we are apt to 
imagine. 

Success is distinguished for its peculiar 
influence on the mind. It is generally accom¬ 
panied with cheerfulness, and an agreeable 
flow of spirits. The vexation and dreariness 
inseparable from adversity, are unfelt. There 



iGO 


SUCCESS. 


is no fear of disappointment rankling in the 
bosom; no anticipation of evil arising from the 
probable failure of our own resources, or from 
the caprice of others. Such is the frailty of 
man, and so numerous are the accidents of life, 
that when the blessing is only in prospect, it is 
an affair of the greatest uncertainty whether it 
will ever be realized. Hence in the same pro¬ 
portion as it appears excellent and desirable, 
will this suspense awaken those passions and 
emotions which exclude every feeling of joy, 
and which, so long as they continue to agitate, 
greatly embitter existence. It is remarkable to 
think of the manner in which frequent disap¬ 
pointments operate on some persons, and what 
an ample scope is given for the play of the 
sombrous and unkindly propensities of the soul. 
The fact of our being placed in this world for 
the trial of our virtue, seldom crosses the mind 
with any lasting or solemn impression of its 
truth: and if the thought occur, that afflictions 
may be necessary, it is presently dismissed as 
an unwelcome obtruder. In this state of feel¬ 
ing, it is not wonderful, if they soon arrive at 


SUCCESS. 


161 


the unhappy conclusion, that every avenue to 
prosperity is closed by the decree and will of 
heaven. And while they imagine the Deity 
hath commanded “the clouds, that they rain no 
rain upon them,” they are in danger of viewing 
every surrounding object as being invested with 
a threatening aspect; of withdrawing from 
society under the influence of a morbid gloom; 
and of considering the species as a brotherhood, 
to which they have ceased to belong. Success, 
on the contrary, surrounds the soul with an 
atmosphere of light and gladness. It is attend¬ 
ed with all the gaiety and freshness of which we 
are conscious, when beholding nature in a fine 
morning of spring: when she resumes her in¬ 
imitable colours at the departure of the twilight; 
when the flowers open their blossoms to the 
rising sun, and the streams admit his rays into 
their pure bosoms; when the clouds are stained 
with a bright red, and the fields appear in a 
verdant bloom. Success, as far as relates to 
the object which has been sought, implies the 
existence of a calm and tranquil repose. It is 
not necessary to rise up early, and to sit up late, 


102 


SUCCESS. 


to accomplish our purposes. There is no at¬ 
tempt or project required, which would exhaust, 
in a measure, the corporeal or mental energies. 
The man who is so happy as to enjoy the bless¬ 
ing, is not like the mariner tossed on the angry 
billows of the ocean, but like him, who after a 
long and hazardous voyage, enters with delight 
and safety, into the desired haven. 

These observations are chiefly applicable, 
where the circumstances of the person are 
essentially improved: and under this view of 
the subject, success may be contemplated, as a 
peculiar favour of Providence, and as enabling 
us to enlarge the sphere of usefulness. To have 
the path of life illumined by the propitious 
smiles of heaven; to live in a state that secures 
those comforts which correspond to our previous 
wishes and expectations, without acknowledging 
the source whence they flow, is not merely a 
token of ingratitude. By attributing prosperity 
to the caprice of fortune or to our own industry, 
we deprive ourselves of the most refined ingre¬ 
dient in all human happiness, which is, a sole 
conviction that it is the result of divine care. 


success. 163 

prompted by infinite goodness. When we 
view the accomplishment of our desires and 
pursuits, as issuing- immediately from the hand 
of God, they increase in value a thousand fold, 
and seem to put on new glories. The disparity 
betwixt the man feelingly alive to the truth of 
these sentiments, and him who considers that he 
is indebted for his success to his own resources, 
is not less remarkable than that which subsists 
between an intelligent being, and the animal 
tribes, amidst a rich and beauteous landscape. 
The brute creation, it is true, lie down on the 
flowery banks, and enjoy the pastures and the 
cooling streams, but they are insensible to any 
thing attractive in the scenery which surrounds 
them; while the mind, not only rejoices in 
the smiling fruits and other productions of 
the earth, but is loath to leave the matchless 
graces and unnumbered charms, of the form¬ 
ing hand of nature. That the patriarch Job 
considered the blessing we are speaking of 
as the gift of Providence, may be learnt 
from the following impressive language: “Oh 
that I were as in months past, as in the days 


IG4 


SUCCESS. 


when God preserved me; when his candle 
shined upon my head, and when by his light I 
walked through darkness; as I was in the days 
of my youth, when the secret of God was upon 
my tabernacle; when the Almighty was yet 
with me; when my children were about me; 
when I washed my steps with butter, and the 
rock poured me out rivers of oil.” 

It may reasonably be expected, that so emi¬ 
nent a quality in human actions, would prepare 
for a more enlarged sphere of usefulness: and 
accordingly, success has, more or less, a benefi¬ 
cial influence on society when it is connected 
with generous dispositions. Among the proofs 
of the limitation of our faculties, this is not the 
least conspicuous, that while engaged in the 
pursuit of an object, on the attainment of which 
our happiness greatly depends, we seem to have 
no leisure, feeling, or energy, which we can spare 
for others. The efforts to accomplish some 
work of virtuous enterprise; to make an import¬ 
ant discovery; to acquire a competency in 
wealth, or to attain to some laudable distinction 
and honor, engross nearly the whole of the 


SUCCESS. 


105 


attention, and are deemed to be quite equal to 
the full measure of passion and vigor which 
the individual possesses. On the other hand, 
when the proposed good is realized, it gives a 
noble mind, not only respite from difficulty and 
suffering, but room and freedom for the full 
play of all the kind and endearing tendencies of 
humanity. As the resources of such a man, 
are more numerous than those around him, they 
invest him with a power to engage the attention, 
and promote the well-being of his neighbourhood. 
Having been led through many of the intricate 
paths of life, he can sympathize with the dis- 
tressed, rectify the erring judgment, animate 
the desponding, and often devise measures, 
which will make crooked things straight, and 
rough places plain. 

A few remarks, explanatory of the principles 
on which this conduct proceeds, may be sub¬ 
joined to the fore-going reflections. Almost all 
the brilliant examples of success that the world 
has seen, were accomplished by measures which 
operated on the mind with the force of law: and 
the virtuous candidate for so desirable an object, 


166 


SUCCESS. 


sets out from a strict regard to equity and 
truth. Though he is susceptible of as strong a 
passion for happiness as other men, he is con¬ 
scious there are higher ends to be promoted; 
and while he perceives that many are seeking it, 
free from the restraints of justice, and endea¬ 
vouring to reach the distant good by the shortest 
and easiest roads, he is unprepared to advance, 
unless he can approve himself to his conscience, 
to all good men, and to the great Eternal. It 
may be hoped, for the honour of human nature 
and religion, that the numerous failures and 
disappointments which abound, are not so many 
proofs of negligence or impiety. That they are 
in many instances to be ascribed to one, or both 
of these causes, cannot be questioned; but surely 
the number is not small of those, whose plans 
cease to be effectual, because they are found not 
to harmonize with truth and virtue. These are 
always soliciting the attention of an upright 
character, and were it as easy for him to secure 
his temporal good, as to discriminate right from 
wrong, the scenes of sorrow would not so often 
pass in review before us, nor would so many groan 


SUCCESS. 


167 


beneath the relentless power of adversity. A 
superior degree of wisdom seems to be requisite 
in order to unite the promotion of our worldly 
interests with that of equity: but this is doubt¬ 
less attainable; and while “it is necessary 
always to consider and do the things which are 
just,” it is at the same time compatible with 
reason and scripture, “ to take care that these 
may conduce to our advantage.”* 

If we wish to be successful in any pursuit, to 
which we attach importance, it is proper to en¬ 
list every power that we possess into the service; 
to aim to have a vivid impression of the excel¬ 
lence of the object; to keep it always distinctly 
in the view of the mind; to consider what may 
hinder the acquisition of it, and what is able to 
make it more easy of attainment. By compar¬ 
ing it with other objects, which fail to excite so 
much attention, it will be profitable often to ab¬ 
stract and dwell upon those qualities which are 
thought to give it, its peculiar charms; and 
above all things, is it necessary, to remember 

* Afi Of GKcnTtiv piv citi kcu irparTtiv Til S iKiua ' Gvp7rapaTi]piiv 
ottojq a pa Kai vvpfcpovTa tuna ravra. —Demosthenes De 
Megalopo litis . 


1G8 


SUCCESS. 


how the wisest and best of men have acted in 
similar circumstances. On no one point did the 
Athenian orator rally his countrymen so much, 
as on the necessity of applying the mind to their 
affairs; to the neglect of this he considered, they 
owed all their misfortunes, and therefore, he 
inculcates it, in almost every speech, with a 
studied variety of expression. Nothing can be 
conceived more animating to a vigorous mind, 
than to reflect, that success depends, not on the 
assiduities of others, which we can seldom com¬ 
mand ; not on the elements, over which we have 
no power; not on time past, which we can never 
recall, nor on the future of which we are yet 
ignorant: but on turning the thoughts inward, 
with a view to repel from the character every 
injurious inclination and habit, and to impose 
new ones, which by being brought into lively 
operation, diminish difficulties, remove obstruc¬ 
tions, and conduct to a favourable issue. 

The judgment of mankind has ever been in 
favour of these sentiments; but the practical 
adoption of them extremely rare. Nevertheless, 
a few instances are to be met with; and as we 


SUCCESS. 1G0 

have been led to mention the Athenian nation, 
it will not be thought unnatural, to adduce 
Philip, king ot Macedon, as an illustrious ex-* 
ample of success, arising from an active and 
constant attention to the object of his pursuit. 
The hostilities which he carried on against that 
powerful state, were always conducted with con¬ 
summate vigilance, and the most prudent cau¬ 
tion. He was not engaged in making prepara¬ 
tions or in holding councils, when he should 
have been in action. Perfectly acquainted with 
the enemies, with whom he had to contend, he 
took advantage of whatever in their character 
and condition seemed to promise the faintest 
hope of accomplishing his designs. When it 
was necessary to make any important movement, 
he seized on the precise moment for that pur¬ 
pose. There w T as indeed, no favourable con¬ 
juncture, no advantageous scene for action, no 
propitious gales, of which he did not avail him¬ 
self, or which he failed to turn to the best 
account. By thus diligently applying the mind 
to his affairs, he prevailed against the city, and 
was considered almost invincible. It is by 


170 


SUCCESS. 


bringing similar principles into lively operation, 
that success in ordinary life is, for the most part, 
realized. By far the greater number of disap¬ 
pointments arise, beyond a doubt, from failing to 
exercise one or other of our active powers, from 
permitting some faculty to lie in a state of repose, 
at a season, in which it should be attentively 
awake, to every passing occurrence: nor is there 
a greater cause for regret, with many persons, 
than a consciousness that they were indulging 
an indolent supineness, at the irreparable mo¬ 
ment, in which the smiles of Providence shone 
upon the path, that would have led to a happy 
termination of their wishes. Nimirum luzc ilia 
Charybdis. 

But industry is not sufficient of itself to bring 
any purpose into effect. With the utmost skill 
and activity in conduct, it is necessary to place 
our chief dependance on almighty power and 
goodness. Besides that this is a duty enjoined 
by the highest authority, an attention to it is 
accompanied with unmingled pleasure. Having 
convinced the mind, that the attainment of 
which we are in quest, is approved of heaven, 


SUCCESS. 


171 


there is the delightful satisfaction of knowing, 
that we have not to confide merely on our soli¬ 
tary efforts. A rational assurance of divine 
assistance being at hand, was unknown to the 
most enlightened heathens. It is accompanied 
with this peculiar advantage, that we have not 
to compare the difficulties which may cross our 
path, with the uncertainty of human hopes and 
endeavours, but with the omnipotence of Him, 
who, being love itself, takes delight in promot¬ 
ing the happiness of the sincere and upright. 
Such a confidence inspires the pure mind with 
double ardor, it operates as a powerful incentive 
to perseverance, and gives birth to the pleasing 
conviction, that should we fail in seizing on the 
immediate good which it proposes, the energies 
exerted, will be rewarded by a blessing no less 
substantial. 






















‘i.,; p&W 

U. ' li a : t !> > .‘i i' > i » i 

> -rrv'iq orft *t t: • i, 










uutaiiirtw 























ON CLASSICAL LEARNING. 


“ Let those who undervalue the discoveries of antiquity, only think, what 
our condition at this day must have been, if, in the ages of darkness that 
followed the destruction of the Roman empire, all the literary monu¬ 
ments of Greece and Italy had perished.” 

“ Surely, it cannot be doubted, nor will they who have any knowledge of 
the history of learning-, hesitate to affirm, that the modern Europeans 
are almost wholly indebted for the beauty of their writings, both in 
prose and verse, to the models of elegance that first appeared in Greece, 
and have since been admired and imitated all over the western world.” 

“ In a word, the Greeks and Romans are our masters in all polite litera¬ 
ture ; a consideration, which of itself ought to inspire reverence for 
their writings and genius.” 

Dr. Beattie on Classical Learning. 


When we speak of classical learning, the 
thoughts naturally revert to the compositions 
of those great men, who flourished many cen¬ 
turies ago in Greece and Rome. Such for 
example, as Homer, Plato, and Sophocles, 
Cicero, Virgil, and Horace. Their writings 
are called classical, because in native force o 1 
genius, in the appropriate use of learning, and in 
sublimity, beauty, and grace of expression, they 
occupy the first rank. These authors have, in 



174 


CLASSICAL 


every age and nation, uniformly drawn forth the 
admiration of those who have been able to ap¬ 
preciate their merits. The necessity of an 
acquaintance with them, has generally kept 
pace with the advancement of society; and he 
who is ignorant of their nature and excellence, 
is considered to want “ the last polish of which 
the human character is susceptible.” Attempts 
have been made at different intervals, to divest 
them of their paramount claims, and the rea¬ 
sonings employed to assert and defend these, 
have been treated as destitute of argument, as 
foolish and empty declamation. In the opinion 
of every person competent to give judgment, it 
is usually deemed sufficient to repel the ob¬ 
jector, by replying in language, similar to that 
adopted by Dr. Beattie, “that none affect to 
despise them, but they who are ignorant of their 
value.” Some of the most popular remarks 
which are afloat on this subject, may probably 
be arranged under one or other of the three 
following questions. What is the distinguish¬ 
ing excellence of the classic authors ? May not 
this be acquired by means of translations, 


LEARNING. 


175 


without the trouble of learning the original 
languages? And what are the peculiar advan¬ 
tages to be derived from their works ? 

We must not imagine, that the excellence of 
the Greek and Latin authors is unmingled or 
universal. It will be recollected, that they 
were nurtured amidst the darkness of paganism 
and idolatry. They worshipped an unknown 
God; in consequence of which, they were not 
only unacquainted with the great truths of our 
holy religion, but they had no correct notions 
of a divine being. This ignorance of a subject 
so vitally interesting to man, would of course 
display itself in their compositions, and accord¬ 
ingly we are often met by the folly and impiety 
of polytheism. Their writings abound with 
beautiful speculations on morals; nor can it be 
doubted, that if all the fine things which they 
have written concerning virtue, were reduced 
to practice, they would give fresh lustre to the 
character of the most eminent saint. But they 
were ignorant of what ought to be the governing 
principles of action. Their morality tended only 
to gild the exterior, and wanting the sanction 


176 


CLASSICAL 


of an almighty Ruler and Judge, it had no power 

to make its wav to the heart. It would, there- 
•/ 

fore, be unspeakably absurd and improper to 
expatiate, on this ground, on the excellence 
of Homer, or any of his bright compeers, since, 
with respect to morality, no less than to religion, 
“the darkness is past, and the true light now 
shineth.” If the customs and laws of the an¬ 
cients were distinguished for any eminence, this 
was not perhaps superior to that which marks 
our own. On the contrary, there is good reason 
for supposing, that where the Christian religion 
prevails, the institutions and manners of the 
nation, must proportionally rise in dignity and 
importance. As far then as relates to theology, 
motives of conduct, habits, and institutions, 
there is nothing to recommend classical learn¬ 
ing, which does not apply with equal or greater 
force, to the literature of our own country. The 
excellence of which we are about to speak, was 
derived chiefly from the operations of genius, 
and the exercise of taste. These were pro¬ 
found and discriminating, to a degree which few 
have equalled, and none have at any time ex- 


LEARNING. 


177 


celled. That the principal authors of Greece 
and Rome were men of extraordinary talents, 
all are agreed, but it was the peculiar manner 
in which they employed their talents that gave 
them so proud a distinction. The first thing 
which may be mentioned is, that they applied 
themselves to the study of nature, with a dili- 
gence of which none of the moderns will pretend 
to boast. The circumstances in which they 
were placed, were extremely different from 
ours. Of the Greeks especially, it may 
be said, that they were in possession of few or 
no books, and they have generally been acknow¬ 
ledged as the inventors of learning and science: 
for though these flourished at an earlier period 
among the Egyptian priests and Indian brah¬ 
mins, they were not accessible in the same 
manner, as the writings of the classics are to us: 
nor could they be obtained, but by travelling 
into those remote regions. When, therefore, 
Homer and a few others began to compose, they 
had but one hand to guide them, and this was 
the hand of nature. There were no finished 
productions of the pen, to serve as a clue to 

H 3 


178 


CLASSICAL 


their inquiries, and no written precepts to regu¬ 
late and manage their thoughts. If they 
wished to be sublime, it was necessary to look 
abroad, and examine the majesty of creation; 
if they were desirous of infusing a beauty, or 
any of the softer graces into their compositions, 
it was necessary to have recourse to the same 
volume. But as they concluded the grandeur, 
order, and harmony which pervade the works 
of nature, were produced agreeably to some 
system, and as this system is not obvious to the 
eye, they set themselves to search for it, with 
the utmost severity of application. It was their 
business to invent, and in carrying on the crea¬ 
tions of their minds, they studied the bright 
originals which they copied, as if conscious they 
were imitating the workmanship of their gods. 
It is easy to see, that this circumstance alone 
must have had an overpowering influence, in 
regard to sentiment and expression. Nothing 
could be deemed trifling or unimportant in the 
use of a word, much less in the choice and ar¬ 
rangement of ideas. When in the opening of 
the Iliad and iEneid, we read the invocation to 


LEARNING. 


179 


the mttses, we are amused by the display of 
poetical fancy, but it is probable Hhat Homer 
and Virgil felt the same awful gravity, though 
not the sobriety of truth, which marks the 
Christian in his prayers. In perfect accordance 
with this train of ideas, it may be observed, 
that the former poet was esteemed and admired 
by the ancients, as the great high priest of 
nature, who was admitted into her inmost choir, 
and acquainted with her most solemn mysteries. 

When therefore it is asked, what it is that 
gives the classic authors their pre-eminence 
over others, it is sufficient to reply, that they, 
in all things, followed nature. As she professes 
nothing that is gaudy, and is no where tinged 
with false colouring, we may cease to be sur¬ 
prised, that they are not remarkable for these 
qualities. They could not fail to be sublime 
on all proper occasions; to be just, critical, and 
exact in their discernment; to know what is 
essential and suitable to every subject, and how 
far to carry the study of it; what to dazzle with 
light, and what to cast into the shade. 

But there is another consideration, which it 


180 


CLASSICAL 


may be proper to mention. The most celebrated 
writers now alluded to, were persons of emi¬ 
nence and distinction. They were courtiers, 
statesmen, generals of armies, or great travel¬ 
lers. They lived always in the midst of fortune 
and snlendour, and had a considerable portion 
of leisure, and the most ample means for study. 
This remark applies particularly to Herodotus, 
the father of history, to Thucydides, Xenophon, 
Sophocles, and above all to Plato, who in his 
paternal line, descended from Codrus, the 
celebrated king of Athens, and in his mother’s, 
from Solon, their equally celebrated lawgiver. 

The greatness with which they were surround¬ 
ed would inspire a kindred majesty into their 
language and conceptions: in addition to which 
it may be remarked, that inasmuch as they were 
endowed with a great genius, with noble and 
generous sentiments, we can be at no loss to 
account for their characteristic excellence. “ It 
is reasonable to suppose, that the compositions 
of those men should be great, whose thoughts 
are bold and magnificent.”* 

“ MsyaXoi t £ o! Xoyoi tovtwv Kara to tiKog, wv av tfifipi* 
6fig ojgiv ai tvvoiai.” Longinus de Sublimitate. 


LEARNING. 


181 


Besides being thus favoured by nature, they had 
the strongest inducements to aim at perfection in 
all their writings. In a word, for the severity 
of application, they were crowned with the most 
signal praises. In proof of the high reputation 
in which Euripides w 7 as held, we may remark 
that when some of his countrymen were taken 
prisoners by the Sicilians, they were treated 
with the greatest respect, and as many as could 
repeat any of his verses, were rewarded with 
their liberty, and generously sent home with 
marks of honour. The most powerful and 
polite state of all Greece, esteemed a line of 
Pindar’s, in praise of their celebrated city, de¬ 
serving of public acknowledgements and a 
statue: while Virgil and Horace were beloved 
and munificently treated by Maecenas, the first 
minister of the Roman nation, and bv the em- 
peror Augustus. This view of the subject may 
very properly be concluded by introducing a 
famous story from Sir William Temple’s fine 
essay on poetry. “ For the force of eloquence 
that so often raised and appeased the violence 
of popular commotions, and caused such convul- 


182 


CLASSICAL 


sions in the Athenian state, no man need more, 
to make him acknowledge it, than to consider 
Caesar, one of the greatest and wisest of mortal 
men, come upon the tribunal, full of hatred and 
revenge, and with a determined resolution to 
condemn Labienus, yet upon the force of Cicero’s 
eloquence, (in an oration for his defence,) begin 
to change countenance, turn pale, shake to that 
degree, that the papers he held, fell out of his 
hand, as if he had been frightened with words, 
that never was so with blows, and at last change 
all his anger into clemency, and acquit the 
brave criminal, instead of condemning him.” 

But may not this excellence be acquired by 
means of translations, without enduring the 
fatigue, inseparable from the study of the 
learned languages? It is no small evidence to 
the contrary, when we remember that of all 
those who have cultivated them with diligence 
and accuracy, no one can be found of this opin¬ 
ion. Some ingenuous minds would doubtless 
have arisen at different intervals, to shew that 
the labour is unnecessary, and by a class of 
arguments demonstrate, that professors, the 


LEARNING. 


183 


heads of colleges, and other teachers of inferior 
rank, are imposing on the public mind. It is 
impossible to account for the unbroken silence, 
which has uniformly been preserved on this 
head, except on the principle, that he who 
wishes to study an author to the best advantage, 
must read him in the original tongue. A writer 
may justly be considered to communicate his 
own ideas, with an energy and freshness, supe¬ 
rior to those of a translator, who, notwithstanding 
his ability, is often obliged to have recourse to 
paraphrase, from a difference of idiom, and from 
other causes. “ Translations are like portraits, 
they may give some ideas of the lineaments and 
colours, but the life and the motion they cannot 
copy; and too often, instead of exhibiting the 
aid of the original, they present us with that 
only, which is most agreable to the taste of the 
painter. Abolish the originals, and you will 
soon see the copies degenerate.”* For a trans- 

* Dr. Beattie on Classical Learning. When speaking on 
the same subject, Dr. Blackwall employs a different compa¬ 
rison, though not less appropriate. “ It is something like 
transplanting a precious tree out of the warm and fruitful 
climes in which it was produced, into a cold and barren 


184 


CLASSICAL 


lator to do justice to his author, it seems natural 
to remark, that the two languages, should, in 
all respects be equal; but the acknowledged 
superiority of the Greek and Latin to the 
English, renders it probable, that the same 
thought might, even in the hands of Addison, 
have appeared feeble and obscure, compared with 
the style in which it would have been adorned by 
Demosthenes or Virgil. Nor is it irrelevant to 
advert to the well known fact, that while the 
ancients were distinguished for their skill in the 
science of music, the writers in question, be¬ 
stowed uncommon labour in endeavouring to in¬ 
fuse harmony into their periods, with a view to 
produce the same tumultuous violence, and 
agreeable surprise, as were occasioned by the 
inimitable touches of the lyre. All this evap¬ 
orates in the translation, and that the loss sus¬ 
tained, is not immaterial, may be inferred from 
this circumstance. Were the same idea to be 
expressed in our own language, by two different 

country: with much care and tenderness it may live, blossom 
and bear; but it can never so cheerfully flourish as in its 
native soil, it will degenerate and lose much of its delicious 
flavour and original virtues.” 


LEARNING. 


185 


writers; the one elegant, the other scarcely 
susceptible of polish, we should be captivated by 
the production of the former, and pass by the 
latter, as being destitute of interest. If it is too 
much to expect that he who attempts to give a 
version of some original author, should be capa¬ 
ble of the same noble conceptions, he ought 
unquestionably to bring an equal degree of 
attachment to the subject, and to be regulated 
by the same principles of taste. Without the 
one, the expressions would throughout, be cold 
and languid; without the other, the style and 
manner of thinking could seldom be ascertained. 
From these considerations, joined to the muta¬ 
bility of language, and various other causes, it 
is not at all surprising, as Dr. Beattie remarks, 
that, '‘few of the great authors of antiquity 
have ever been adequately translated: in conse¬ 
quence of which, a knowledge of the learned 
languages is indispensable, if we wish to behold 
the beauty and grandeur of their writings in 
perfection.” 

Let it not be thought from the preceding 
remarks, that the author is presuming to de- 


186 


CLASSICAL 


tract from the value of translations, or to 
insinuate, that the characteristic excellence of 
these great geniuses may not be appreciated, to 
a considerable extent, by means of their assist¬ 
ance. The mere English scholar has often a 
more correct acquaintance with the finished 
productions now alluded to, than many who are 
acquainted with Latin or Greek. It would, it 
is apprehended, be insufferable pedantry to 
maintain, that a familiarity with Homer and 
Virgil, as they appear in the dress of Pope and 
Dryden, does not qualify so much to speak of 
their respective merits, as an ability to ascertain 
the sense of the original, with great labour, and 
by the help of a lexicon. There seems good 
reason for supposing, that nearly all the quali¬ 
fications necessary to make an efficient trans¬ 
lator, are required to produce an accomplished 
classic; and surely if he who is desirous of seiz¬ 
ing the beauties of the English language, in all 
their rich variety, must give his nights and days 
to the volumes of Addison, a less degree of 
attention will not suffice to obtain a oomplete 
mastery of the learned ancients. 


LEARNING. 


187 


But what are the advantages to be derived 
from the knowledge and study of the authors 
now under consideration? As affording agree¬ 
able and elegant amusement, during the hours 
of leisure, they are deserving of high regard. 
The absurdities of paganism which are occasion¬ 
ally to be met with, are too gross and palpable 
to have any injurious influence on a mind which 
is in the least degree enlightened by Chris¬ 
tianity; and it is well known, that the objection¬ 
able passages, which occur in the best classics, 
are extremely disproportionate to the noble and 
beautiful sentiments that every where abound. 
How delightful then, to retreat from the noise 
and bustle of the day, to enjoy silent converse 
with these mighty dead;—to acquire a kindred 
attachment to nature and simplicity; a habit of 
close and correct thinking on all subjects, and a 
taste for whatever is fascinating in real poetry, 
and whatever is overpowering in genuine elo¬ 
quence. # Provided that mental cultivation and 

* Lest the reader should imagine, this can be the privilege 
of but few, it may not be improper to make the following 
extract, from the Hermes of the learned Mr. Harris. u To 
be completely skilled in ancient learning is by no means a 


188 


CLASSICAL 


improvement be not a concern of inferior mo¬ 
ment, it is unquestionably a wise and prudential 
step, to repair to the most able teachers, for 
that purpose. Notwithstanding words, con¬ 
sidered as the signs of our ideas, are merely 
arbitrary, the mind is peculiarly formed to be 
disgusted or pleased, according as they assume 
a coarse or elegant attire. If then, it is in the 
power of language, by a select, forcible, and 
beautiful arrangement, to bring truth, so to 
speak, nearer to our observation, and to detain 
it longer in the view of the mind, than where 
no such arrangement exists, that advantage can- 

work of such insuperable pains. The very progress itself is 
attended with delight; and resembles a journey through 
some pleasant country, where every mile we advance, new 
charms arise. It is certainly as easy to be a scholar as a 
gamester, or many other characters equally illiberal and 
low. The same application, the same quantity of habit, will 
fit us for one as completely as for the other. And as to 
those who tell us, with an air of seeming wisdom, that it is 
men, and not books, we must study to become knowing; 
this 1 have always remarked from repeated experience, to 
be the common consolation and language of dunces. They 
shelter their ignorance under a few bright examples, whose 
transcendant abilities, without the common helps, have been 
sufficient of themselves, to great and important ends. But 
alas ! 


Decipit exemplar vitiis imitabile.” 


LEARNING. 


189 


not be small, which arises from the study of the 
highest standards of excellence. Allowing 
these sentiments to be correct, there is no situ¬ 
ation in life, in which classical learning might 
not be useful, and why should it be withholden, 
where there is a capacity for acquiring it, and 
means adequate to support its cultivation? 
Besides, it may be remarked, that the habits 
of attention and application which these studies 
necessarily induce, cannot fail to qualify the 
individual to fill up every sphere of action, with 
greater success. And though it is freely con¬ 
fessed, they sometimes bring before us spec¬ 
tacles of depravity, these, remembering the 
authors were heathens, ought to awaken pity, 
rather than to inspire contempt; while it is 
needless to add, what powerful lessons of 
humility and gratitude, may be derived to a 
virtuous mind, from contemplating fallen great¬ 
ness, and characters which compel the wish, 
that “goodness had been their destiny.” In 
these writers, we behold the greatest achieve¬ 
ments of unassisted reason, and when we 
reflect, that notwithstanding their astonishing 



190 


CLASSICAL 


nature, they still leave humanity in a state of 
prostration and ruin, with what transport must 
the firm believer in Revelation turn to that 
system which proposes to make every one who 
cordially receives it, “a child of God, a mem¬ 
ber of Christ, and an inheritor of the kingdom 
of heaven. ” 

All seem to agree, that studies in Greek and 
Latin are useful and necessary, for those 
offices and professions, which are confined to 
merely secular engagements. That the states¬ 
man, for example, may realize important benefits 
by consulting the republic of Plato, and the 
writings of other distinguished lawgivers of 
antiquity, seems to commend itself, to every 
sober judgment. It will too be conceded, 
without a dissenting voice, that the oratory at 
the bar, may become more appropriate and 
elegant, by being formed on the perfect models 
left us by Demosthenes and Cicero. Nor, 
indeed, is there any public or private station, 
which the studies we are speaking of, may not, 
in some degree, embellish. But it is a question, 
gravely asked by many, wbat are the peculiar 


LEARNING. 


191 


advantages of classical learning, to the public 
teacher of religion ? Though men of education 
may think this question superfluous, and capable 
of being dispatched, by a short and easy reply, 
there are, in the opinion of many intelligent 
persons, certain difficulties connected with this 
subject, and it will be in taking a slight survey 
of some of these, that we shall close the present 
essay. 

An acquaintance with classical authors, is by 
no means essentially necessary to the Christian 
minister. In proof of this, it is quite sufficient 
to quote the following language of St. Paul. 
“And I, brethren, when I came to you, came 
not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, 
declaring unto you the testimony of God.” 
No one who possesses the smallest acquaintance 
with the New Testament, can think it is in the 
power of the sublimest oratory to allure men 
into the paths of holiness and peace. On the 
contrary, this is exclusively the work of him, 
who at the creation, “commanded the light to 
shine out of darkness.” It is a distinguishing 
glory of the gospel, that it is preached to the 


192 


CLASSICAL 


poor, adapting itself to the most untutored 
mind, and requiring no accomplishment what¬ 
ever, as a prerequisite for the reception of its 
saving elements and principles. 

These considerations, with others of a kin¬ 
dred nature, have rendered it doubtful, whether 
addresses from the pulpit can derive any ma¬ 
terial assistance from that kind of learning 
which is now engaging our contemplations. If 
the most unexceptionable orthodoxy uniformly 
presupposed the mental faculties to be in a 
state of cultivation and improvement, the sacred 
office of a minister would stand in little need of 
literary studies. But it is a source of painful 
disquietude to many excellent men, who have 
no access to the originals of knowledge, that 
they often fail on this account to set forth truth 
in a full and piercing light; are apt to declaim, 
where they ought to reason; to attempt an 
elaborate demonstration, where it is sufficient 
only to illustrate, and frequently to step aside 
from the subject, through the influence of a 
wild imagination. Thus it appears, that pulpit 
oratory may be considerably aided by secular 


LEARNING. 


193 


learning: and many of the foregoing remarks 
serve to shew, that the Greek and Roman 
writers have the highest claim on our regards. 
Every superficial reader of them, must be im¬ 
pressed, that a close attention to the subject 
with respect to which they were about to speak 
or write, was considered the first step towards 
the attainment of success; on this, they were 
fully aware, all their hopes depended, and for 
this, they have, in every age and nation, been 
remarkable. Such a circumstance would be 
likely to produce beneficial effects on a mind 
sensibly awake to the majesty of truth, and the 
eternal interests of mankind. “ Did these men,” 
it would be tempted to ask, “deem it worth 
their while to study with the greatest severity, 
what, before the light of revelation, appears 
more trifling than the amusements of childhood, 
and shall not I give the same undivided atten¬ 
tion to truths of infinite moment, and into 
which angels desire with the greatest eagerness 
to look?” The most eminent among them, 
were perfect masters of every topic, which they 
undertook to discuss. They had an accurate 

1 


194 


CLASSICAL 


knowledge of its nature, properties, and rela¬ 
tions: not content with this, they extended 
their inquiries in every direction, and often 
travelled far to augment their stores of inform¬ 
ation, that they might be the better prepared to 
instruct and entertain. Might not the teacher 
of religion, expect to derive important advan¬ 
tages from imitating them, in endeavouring to 
acquire a profound acquaintance with the objects 
of his study, and in cherishing the same passion 
for knowledge, in all its branches? But the 
men to whom we allude, carried their views 
still higher. They generally aimed, in their 
discourses, to give a prominency to some truth, 
which they deemed to be of great importance: 
by making all their reasonings and illustrations 
to bear upon this, they surrounded it with a 
Hood of light; and hence succeeded effectually, 
in producing the intended impression. Is it of 
no avail to acquire this excellence, and to make 
it. characterize those lectures and sermons, which 
propose to instruct us in the things which be¬ 
long to our everlasting peace? Notwithstand¬ 
ing they are unequalled for the emp loyment of 


LEARNING. 


195 


fine language and beautiful imagery, these were 
reserved for subjects which they and the com¬ 
mon sense of their countrymen, regarded as 
susceptible of polish. It may with safety be 
affirmed, that for no two qualities are they more 
admired, than for soberness of judgment and 
chasteness of imagination, in ornamenting their 
poems and orations. But the lustre of sacred 
truth is never more obscured, than when she is 
falsely decked by the flowers of rhetoric; and 
this may be considered another reason, why the 
preacher should often consult the most perfect 
patterns of accuracy and taste. Finally, in 
these and various endowments besides, the 
classics are allowed, on all hands, to be superior 
to every other description of authors; and since 
the advantages which may be obtained, are 
great and noble, no plausible objection can rea¬ 
sonably be made, why they should be denied to 
» 

the most honourable profession. 

































ON PHILOSOPHY. 


But now let other themes our care engage. 

For lo! with modest, yet majestic grace, 

To curb imagination’s lawless rage, 

And from within the cherished heart to brace. 

Philosophy appears. The gloomy race 
By indolence and moping fancy bred, 

Fear, discontent, solicitude, give place, 

And hope and courage brighten in their stead, 

While on the kindling soul her vital beams are shed.” 

Beattie's Minstrel, Book II 


Philosophy seems to have been commonly 
understood by the ancients, to denote the love 
and practice of wisdom. As this accords with 
its literal acceptation, so there are in the writ¬ 
ings of Cicero, numerous passages, in which 
that enlightened sage, appears to have restricted 
the term, very much to morals. His great soul 
kindled into rapture, as often as philosophy 
engaged his attention. Instead of regarding it, 
as a mere expression, he suffered it to quicken 



198 


PHILOSOPHY. 


before him, into spirit and life. He hailed her 
as a messenger from the skies, as an ever-pre¬ 
sent divinity, as the tamer of the human breast, 
which could administer counsel in perplexity, 
and support under affliction. For these reasons, 
it is not surprising, that he should frequently 
lavish his praises upon her. “ Philosophy” he 
remarks, “ heals the mind, takes away unneces¬ 
sary disquietude, frees us from excessive desires, 
and expels every painful apprehension.”* “ O 
philosophy” he exclaims on another occasion, 
“ thou guide of life; thou, that searchest after 
virtue, thou banisher of vice! of what advan¬ 
tages could human existence be productive, 
without thy cheering influence; thou hast found¬ 
ed cities ; thou hast called mankind, who were 
scattered abroad, to the enjoyment of social 
life.’ f There were other senses, beyond a 
doubt, in which the term was occasionally em- 

* Philosophia medetur animis, inanes solicitudines detra- 
hit, cupiditatibus liberat, pellit timores .—Tuscul Quast. 
II. 4. 

t O vitai philosophia dux ! O virtutis indagatrix, expultrix- 
que vitiorum! quid omnino vita hominum sine te esse 
potuisset ? tu urbes peperisti ; tu dissipatos, homines in 
societatem vita? convocasti. Tuscul, Quast. V. 2. 


PHILOSOPHY. 


199 


ployed. In modern times, however, it has a 
much more extensive signification: and perhaps 
it would be found on enquiry, that the notions 
which many entertain, in regard to its true 
import, are loose and incorrect. In past ages, 
philosophy was almost confined to the vocabulary 
of the learned; it implied the existence of 
certain talents and acquisitions, which were 
rarely to be met with, except in academic bowers; 
while there was no character over which so 
great an air of sacredness and majesty was dif¬ 
fused as that of a philosopher. Since the times 
of Lord Bacon, it has given birth to so many 
sublime inventions and discoveries, as to attract 
general notice: nor indeed, is education, even 
amongst the middling classes deemed to be 
complete, without embracing some studies to 
which it relates. When we consider the innu¬ 
merable comforts, and embellishments, with 
which it has blessed and adorned society, it is 
rather an unfortunate circumstance, that suffi¬ 
cient care has not been taken, accurately to 
explain the nature and province of philosophy.* 

* The author does not of course mean this remark to apply 
to the scientific world. 


200 


PHILOSOPHY. 


The greater part of mankind are generally 
satisfied with seeing things as they are. If they 
are excited to look at them, with a degree of 
curiosity, beyond what is common, it is to survey 
certain properties or functions which have 
hitherto escaped their notice. There are num¬ 
berless appearances in nature and art, that 
present evident marks of design. The expla¬ 
nation of these could not fail to supply ample 
amusement to the thoughtful and inquisitive. 
Accordingly, no character is more in requisition, 
or more popular in the present times, than he 
who is qualified to entertain a company, by 
making a variety of experiments. But philoso¬ 
phy seems peculiarly to consist, in ascending 
from the contemplation of facts and appearances, 
to investigate the causes whence they proceed, 
or the laws by which they are regulated. 
Whatever object is presented to a mind, that is 
at all imbued with this spirit, affords delight, 
in proportion as the secret springs of its exist¬ 
ence and operations are developped. Whether 
it relates to things material or immaterial, to 
matter or to mind, to the heights above, or to 


PHILOSOPHY. 


201 


the depths beneath, philosophers are intent on 
tracing- it, if possible, to its first source. “ While 
they attempt this arduous task, they are deterred 
by no difficulties; but proceeding from particular 
instances to general principles, they still push 
on their inquiries to principles more general, 
and rest not satisfied, till they arrive at those 
original principles, by which, in every science, 
all human curiosity must be bounded.”* The 
pleasure occasioned by experiment arises, with 
many, in beholding an object, complex and 
diversified in its appearance, analysed, and in 
hearing the use of each particular part explained; 
the pleasure of the philosopher consists chiefly in 
perceiving that the most complicated machinery, 
is often put into motion by few and simple 
laws. Experiment is valuable with him, inas¬ 
much as it assists in diminishing the number of 
mysteries, and in presenting objects which before 
appeared a rude disjointed mass, in a state of 
regularity and coherence. The more he studies 
nature, the more he is impressed with that sim¬ 
plicity, which pervades all her operations, and 
* Hume on the Different Species of Philosophy. 

i 3 


202 


PHILOSOPHY. 


nothing excites his admiration more than the 
contrast which subsists betwixt this, and the 
endless and beautiful variety, every where 
apparent. The investigations of scientific men, 
have, it is true, replenished the world with 
discoveries, but their most brilliant success 
proceeds from having rendered the reasonings 
and calculations in the different arts and sciences 
more general and easy. Now, “to abridge the 
labour of reasoning and memory, by directing 
the attention to general principles, instead of 
particular truths, is the professed aim of all 
philosophy.”* 

Two causes have at least contributed to make 
the science now under consideration, less dis¬ 
tinctly understood. These are experiment and 
hypothesis. The great superiority of the mo¬ 
dern philosophy over the ancient, is chiefly 
owing to experiment. In the early ages of the 
world, the learned were apt to assume the 
causes of things, and to argue from them to 
phenomena and effects. This method is now 
exploded; since it is considered both more 
* Dngald Stewart, vol. 1. cap. 4. sect. 7. 


PHILOSOPHY. 


203 


rational and more safe, to build all our specula¬ 
tions, with respect to the laws of nature, on the 
result of actual observation. So self-evident, 
indeed, is this become, that nothing will now 
pass, which is not either founded on experi¬ 
ments, or confirmed by them. The wonders 
exposed to view by this means, give an air of 
importance to the practitioner, and partly from 
the skill which he displays in working his ap¬ 
paratus, partly from the promptitude with which 
he satisfies curious questions, and partly from the 
ample entertainment which he affords to the spec¬ 
tators, he receives the honourable appellation of 
philosopher. It is scarcely necessary to remark, 
that these accomplishments may exist where there 
is little or no bias for inquiring into the causes 
of things, and where there is neither the learn¬ 
ing nor ability which is often requisite to assist 
in making discoveries. But without these 
endowments, the other talents which we have 
mentioned, give birth to a mere splendid display 
of mechanical operations. 

Nothing is more likely to impose on the 
minds of men, than an ingenious hypothesis; 


204 


PHILOSOPHY. 


especially when, so far from seeming to contra¬ 
dict any appearances, it promises to open a new 
path for investigation. In the infancy of know ¬ 
ledge, it was much more common to indulge in 
conjectures, than in the present advanced state 
of science. “Accordingly we find, that the 
most ancient systems in every branch of philo¬ 
sophy, were nothing but the conjectures of men, 
famous for their wisdom, whose fame gave 
authority to their opinions.”* When hypo¬ 
thesis is not guided by information, and is made 
without any determinate view to improvement, 
it is, instead of being serviceable to learning, 
productive of endless chimeras. Dr. Reid, in 
his essay on this subject, introduces several of 
these; and speaks of hypotheses throughout, 
with unqualified disapprobation, remarking at 
the same time, that “ the invention of them has 
been considered as the highest attainment of a 
philosopher.” In the censure however, which 
he has pronounced, all have not concurred, and 
in nothing probably does his enlightened disci¬ 
ple, Dugald Stewart, appear to be more at 


* Dr. Reid on Hypothesis. 


PHILOSOPHY. 


205 


issue with him, than in regard to hypothesis. 
While he unites with the Doctor, in judging 
those which are arbitrary and gratuitous, as 
worthy of being reprobated, he considers there 
are high and important senses, in which they 
are eminently useful. The following words of 
Boscovich, which are taken from the second 
volume of his Elements, strikingly corroborate 
the sentiments which he wishes to impress. “In 
some instances, observations and experiments 
at once reveal to us all that we wish to know. 

In other cases, we avail ourselves of the aid 
of hypothesis,—by which word , however, is to 
be understood, not fictions altogether arbitrary, 
but suppositions conformable to experience or 
analogy. By means of these we are enabled to 
supply the defects of our data, and to conjecture 
or divine the path to truth; always ready to 
abandon our hypothesis, when found to involve 
consequences inconsistent with fact.” , f 

Philosophy is a noble study, whether we view 
it as the origin of nearly all the arts and sci¬ 
ences, which improve and embellish life, or 

t Stewart’s Mental Philosophy, vol ii. pp. 434,435. 


206 


PHILOSOPHY. 


whether we consider it in the delight and satis¬ 
faction which it imparts. Notwithstanding 
there are inventions and discoveries which owe 
their existence to accident, or, at any rate, not 
to a learned and profound investigation, they 
are indebted for many of their important uses, 
to the subsequent labours of men, who have 
employed upon them diligent and persevering 
research. Nor are their secret springs of ope¬ 
ration often known, apart from exercising that 
power, which qualifies the mind to penetrate 
into the recesses of nature. That there should 
be a guide to conduct any in an undertaking so 
important to the well being of society, is a 
strong proof, the Deity has made provision for 
the growth and enlargement of our intellectual 
natures. But that its counsels should serve, 
whatever be the road which the inquirer takes, 
to lead him through its windings and labyrinths, 
or to shew that it is beset by impassable bar¬ 
riers, inspires feelings with respect to philoso¬ 
phy, similar to those which are cherished 
towards an affectionate and venerated parent. 

Such is the limitation of the human faculties, 


PHILOSOPHY. 


207 


that it may well excite surprise, we are not 
always met by problems which cannot be solved, 
with difficulties which can never be removed. 
To have an adequate conception of what would 
have been the miseries entailed on mankind, 
had such been our predicament, it is proper to 
contemplate these faculties improved and 
strengthened by education, and employed on 
some investigation with the most inquisitive 
and insatiable curiosity. The want of success 
in the first generation would not have perhaps 
cooled the ardour of enquiry in the second, but 
if after the lapse of several, no one had been 
prepared to exclaim, “I have found it! I have 
found it!’' all hopes of satisfaction must soon 
have expired; the conscious ability to investi¬ 
gate, would, amidst incessant disappointment, 
have impressed a conviction of being under the 
irreconcilable frown of the Almighty; while the 
excited state of feelings, occasioned by the 
spirit of research, would have ended in gloomy 
and long despair. How different the scenes 
presented to our admiring eyes; how opposite 
the class of feelings awakened by the great 


208 


PHILOSOPHY. 


successes which have crowned the various de¬ 
partments of philosophy! Almost every object 
of study has, it is true, some ultimate questions, 
which the human mind will never be able to 
answer. But a knowledge of there being truths, 
whose mysteries it belongs to superior natures 
to explore, can be matter for neither humiliation 
nor regret. In the meantime, many and noble 
are the pursuits from which we may obtain 
satisfaction, commensurate with our most en¬ 
larged and anxious wishes. It is observable 
that all the arts and sciences have their philo¬ 
sophy; thus we read of the philosophy of gram¬ 
mar, the philosophy of logic, the philosophy of 
rhetoric, and the philosophy of mathematics. 
Though an accurate acquaintance with these, 
and other branches of knowledge, is useful and 
even ornamental, we instantly perceive that 
this can bear no proportion to the enlargement 
and delight which arise from a familiarity with 
their principles. An expert accountant may 
work with ease the sums which are arranged 
under the different rules of his arithmetic, and 
find considerable pleasure in the exercise; but 


PHILOSOPHY. 


209 


it will not be pretended, that this is equivalent 
to what is felt by him, who understands the 

t 

principles in which the science terminates. It 
is certainly gratifying to be able to oall the stars 
by their names, and to tell what time they will 
rise, and when they will set, but to know how, 
with mathematical skill, to account for these and 
other celestial appearances, is surely to ascend 
many degrees in the scale of literary pleasure. 

Several divisions have been made of the great 
subject which is now engaging our contempla¬ 
tions ; but the three principal ones seem to be, 
into physical, ethical, and mental. # 

* The author is aware that political philosophy is often 
treated as a distinct and separate branch. Nevertheless, 
as Dr. Paley justly remarks, this is, properly speaking, a 
continuation of moral philosophy: or rather indeed a part of 
it, supposing moral philosophy to have for its aim, the in¬ 
formation of the human conscience, in every deliberation 
which is likely to come before it.* And though in the com¬ 
mencement of his Inquiry concerning Human Understand¬ 
ing, Mr. Hume speaks of the abstruse philosophy, or in 
other words, the science of mind, as being a branch of moral 
philosophy, this is probably to be ascribed to the very com¬ 
prehensive definition which he has given of the latter. His 
reasonings clearly shew, that the one does not necessarily 
involve the other; and this too, is abundantly confirmed by 
Mr. Stewart’s beautiful Essays on the same subject. 

* Preface to Moral Philosophy. 


210 


PHILOSOPHY. 


Physics or natural philosophy is the science 
of external nature, and includes all the objects 
which present themselves to the senses, together 
with whatever reasonings may be formed con¬ 
cerning them, and whatever observations and 
experiments may be made upon them. We are 
surrounded by grand and pleasing phenomena, 
and every object is adapted to awaken curiosity, 
from the smallest spire of grass up to the 
shining orbs that roll in the immensity of space. 
As they are more than can be numbered by any 
one, save their omnipotent and all-wise Creator, 
and can be comprehended together, only by an 
infinite mind, so it is impossible not to admire 
the variety of ways in which they engage the 
attention of mankind. Some are actively em- 
employed in arranging them under different 
classes, some in explaining their uses, and some 
in attempting to trace their numberless opera¬ 
tions to simple and general laws. This, though 
not to the exclusion of the others which we 
have mentioned, is the principal business of the 
philosopher. Now, in all his reasonings, he is 
guided, if he takes the right path, by that uni- 


PHILOSOPHY. 


21 1 


versal law of belief,—the stability of the order 
of nature. Far from imitating the ancients in 
seeking to discover the primary or efficient 
causes of things, the modesty of true science 
teaches him, that these are beyond the reach of 
human attainment, and that they resolve them¬ 
selves into the will of Deity. Aristotle and 
his followers considered philosophy to be the 
science of causes; and the method which 
they adopted in their reasonings, was to 
descend from these to their effects, which is, 
in the language of logic, to argue a priori. 
That this must have operated as a check to the 
advancement of knowledge is evident from this, 
that instead of assisting them to make farther 
discoveries, the process to which we allude, 
could not possibly have any bearings, but upon 
what was already understood. If they reasoned 
from causes, it is presupposed that these were 
known, and as the effects which they concluded 
to follow from them, could not fail of being 
known also: hence it may be inferred, that they 
were indebted to something else, rather than to 
their philosophy, for whatever success attended 


212 


PHILOSOPHY. 


them, in exploring the secret paths of nature. 
Besides that it is more consonant to the extreme 
ignorance of man, and to the limitation of his 
faculties, to ascend step by step from effects, 
to the sources from which they appear to take 
their rise, we are under no necessity, nor indeed 
is it in our power, to consider these as the 
causes which produced them, or to which they 
were first of all indebted for their existence. 
It is now agreed, that the object of the philoso¬ 
pher, is not to search for that mysterious power, 
which necessarily connects two actions or events 
together; but by a diligent attention to the 
analogy, constancy, and uniformity which cha¬ 
racterize the surrounding phenomena, to aim to 
arrive at certain general rules for the regulation 
of his conduct. “ These are a grammar for the 
understanding of nature, or that series of effects 
in the visible world, whereby we are enabled to 
foresee, what will come to pass in the natural 
course of things.”* 

* Dr. Berkeley in note C. Stewart’s Philosophy, vol. I. 
u The highest, or rather the only proper object of physics, 
is to ascertain those established conjunctions of successive 
events, which constitute the order of the universe, to record 


PHILOSOPHY. 


213 


Moral philosophy or ethics is of a different 
kind from that which we have now contemplated, 
and is more useful both in speculation and prac¬ 
tice. Doctor Paley defines it to be, “ that 
science which teaches men their duty, and the 
reasons of it.” In another place he remarks, 
that “ the design of a system of ethics, is the 
direction of private consciences in the general 
conduct of human life.” It would appear that 
an intimate acquaintance with Holy Scripture, 
joined to a readiness to conform to all its pre¬ 
cepts, and unreservedly to bow to its authority, 
is adapted to supersede any very lengthened 
or elaborate reasonings in this department of 
science. Nevertheless, while it is considered 
perfectly easy to paint the beauties of virtue, 
and to represent the deformity of vice, it has, 
at the same time, been deemed a difficult task to 
ascertain the foundation of morals, or the general 
principles into which they are resolved. These 
in the opinion of the ancient philosophers were 

the phenomena which it exhibits to our observations, or 
which it discloses to our experiments, and to refer these 
phenomena to their general laws.”— Stewart, vol. 2. cap. 4. 
»cct. I. 


214 


PHILOSOPHY. 


taste and sentiment; but many modern inquirers 
have regarded them as being deduced from 
profound and abstruse metaphysics. In the 
absence of Revelation, or indeed with a partial 
belief of its claims, we can conceive that the 
theory of morals, like all other theories, might 
be encompassed with difficulties. But is it not 
unnecessarily to raise up obstacles in the way of 
our improvement, to speak of these before the 
light and majesty of Christian holiness ? or can 
a consciousness of the existence of such diffi¬ 
culties, (for Hume is not the only modern 
philosopher who has started them,) harmonize 
with a firm persuasion, that the Deity has 
published his will to mankind? The Christian 
religion not only unfolds the most sublime 
doctrines and facts, it proposes also, to enlighten 
the whole subject of morals, it reveals, that the 
source whence they flow, is contained within its 
own bosom, and it furnishes the matter and 
motive for every action in life, whether it relate 
to God, to our neighbour, or to ourselves. Now 
is it not an unwillingness to search for its prin- 


PHILOSOPHY. 


215 


ciples* in the theology of the New Testament, 
which occasions the darkness that pervades so 
many speculations with regard to the theory of 
ethics? To a decided believer in Revelation, no 
treatises are more interesting and instructive, 
than those which discuss moral questions, pro¬ 
vided they receive illumination and support 
from the gospel; but when, to the neglect of 
His doctrine, who spake as never man spake, the 
philosopher proceeds to point out our duty and 
the reasons of it, he is no better than a blind 
guide, however eminent for logical accuracy 
and force of eloquence. The science of mind 
relates to whatever concerns human understand¬ 
ing. It analyses its faculties; embraces the 
subjects of our consciousness, and so far as 
regards the manner of investigating them, it lies 
at the root of all the arts and sciences in the 
world. From these, and other considerations, 
the mind, as an object of study, must be a very 

* “ For the illustration of particular branches of morals, we 
may consult pagan writers on ethics with advantage; but 
in search of principles , it is at our peril that we desert the 
school of Christ.”— Hall's Supports and Discouragements of the 
Christian Minister. 


PHILOSOPHY. 


216 

honourable one. Till within a comparatively 
recent date, it was encompassed with difficulties 
so numerous, as to render it almost inaccessible 
to human apprehension, and so many absurdities 
and paradoxes were started from time to time, 
that the sober part of literary men abandoned it 
altogether. Though it has now emerged from 
obscurity, and is fast advancing to the broad and 
open day-light of the world, the student ap¬ 
proaches it, with some disadvantages which are 
peculiar to itself. These are such as arise from 
the difficulty of looking inward, and of placing 
the understanding at a distance, with a view to 
make it the object of contemplation; such as 
spring from the want of a philosophical language; 
and more than all, these disadvantages originate 
from there being scarcely any fixed and unalter¬ 
able principles, on which the science can be 
supported. The most profound and penetrating 
geniuses have of late embarked in these studies, 
and the process of their enquiries has, for the 
most part, been conducted according to the fol¬ 
lowing order. They have endeavoured, first o. 
all, accurately to define and limit the terms and 


PHILOSOPHY. 


217 


phrases which express the subjects of their 
disquisitions. In this respect, their employ¬ 
ment resembles that of pioneers; almost every 
new philosopher, being under the necessity of 
removing the obstacles and rubbish, raised and 
collected by his predecessor. Having accom¬ 
plished this arduous but necessary undertaking, 
they have next proceeded to investigate the 
various powers of the mind, dividing them into 
those which are intellectual, and into those 
which are active: the latter they have considered 
to belong to the will, while the former have 
been regarded as having their seat in the under¬ 
standing. After a careful examination of the 
intellectual phenomena, the question would 
naturally arise, in what way are these faculties 
to be applied to the objects of our perceptions, 
and to the subjects of our consciousness ? since, 
as Dr. Reid remarks, “ they are the tools 
and instruments we must use in every disqui¬ 
sition.” For the information of some of the 
readers of this Essay, it may be proper to state, 
that this question was all along considered by 
learned men, to be of vital importance; and to 


K 


218 


PHILOSOPHY. 


resolve it, Aristotle lent all the energies of his 
gigantic mind. Had it only occurred to this 
amazing genius, as it did two thousand years 
afterwards to the immortal Locke, that “ it was 
necessary,” as a previous question, “ to examine 
our own abilities, and see what objects our un¬ 
derstandings were fitted, or not fitted to deal 
with,” there is little reason to doubt, that men¬ 
tal philosophy would, before this period, have 
attained to that perfection, of which most other 
sciences can boast. This previous inquiry, it is 
obvious to remark, could not fail of creating an 
essential difference, in the manner of conducting 
every investigation, from what was adopted so 
long as the doctrines of Aristotle and his disci¬ 
ples, continued to hold an undisputed empire. 
Accordingly, as it is by the rules of logic, that 
all our researches into truth and nature must be 
regulated, so there is no point on which the 
ancients, and many of the moderns, are more at 
issue, than with respect to the nature of this 
useful art. During the early ages of the world, 
learned men seem to have been of opinion, that 
in order to augment their knowledge, it was 


PHILOSOPHY. 


219 


necessary only to exert the reasoning powers; 
and that this might be conducted with accuracy, 
they invented a number of different kinds of 
arguments, which they called syllogisms. It will 
not perhaps be thought improper in this place, 
to introduce one of these in form. The follow¬ 
ing is selected from Duncan's Logic. 

Every creature possessed of reason and liberty is account¬ 
able for his actions. 

Man is a creature possessed of reason and liberty. 

Therefore man is accountable for his actions. 

The reader perceives that a syllogism consists 
of three distinct propositions. The former two 
are denominated premises, and the third is the 
conclusion. By an engine of this sort, did the 
ancients attempt to make discoveries, and to 
widen the domain of science. Among other 
objections urged against such a method, the 
following may be noticed. The very small 
success which attended their inquiries, in com¬ 
parison with what has been realized, since the 
syllogistic art has fallen into contempt—that it 
is less dependant on the reasoning faculty, than 
on other powers of the mind, that the secret 
works of the Almighty are explored—that the 

k 2 



220 


PHILOSOPHY. 


syllogism proposes to demonstrate what is al¬ 
ready proved, in consequence of which it brings 
us round to the precise point whence we set out, 
and that it conducts us from general to particu¬ 
lar truths, whereas the order of nature is ever¬ 
more from particulars to generals. 

It was reserved for Lord Bacon to detect the 
fallacy of this organ of invention, and to form 
the sublime resolution of finding out a better 
way, or of making one. The plan which he 
appears to have proposed was, simply to remark 
the events, which fall under our observation, 
with a view to obtain rules for the future regu¬ 
lation of our conduct, to enlarge as much as 
possible our knowledge of this kind, that we may 
better accomodate our conduct to the established 
course of things, and to proceed through the 
media of observation and experiment from the 
past to the future, from the known to the un¬ 
known. This is what is called the inductive 
logic. It was by means of acting conformably 
to the rules which it prescribes, that the labours 
of New ton, Boyle, and other writers on natural 
philosophy, were crowned w ith the most brilliant 


PHILOSOPHY. 


ooi 

success. The improvements in intellectual 
science, arise from the same cause, since it was 
found on trial, that the new rules of philoso¬ 
phising apply to inquiries with respect to mind, 
no less than to those which relate to matter. 

There is one circumstance extremely worthy 
of attention, which is, that neither the old nor 
the new logic, is indebted to a profound and 
analytical investigation of the intellectual powers. 
We have already seen, that the system of Aris¬ 
totle could not so be considered ; and Des Cartes, 
Malebranche, Locke, and other metaphysicians, 
have arisen since the days in which Bacon flou¬ 
rished; and yet every fresh discovery in this 
most interesting field of speculation, reflects 
additional honour on the sagacity of his Lord- 
ship; justifies his innovation; and furnishes 
every philosopher with better assistance to wield 
his new organ of science. 

From the preceding observations it will ap¬ 
pear, that the study of mental philosophy is 
highly useful, inasmuch as it tends to induce 
habits of strict attention to the meaning of words; 
that in consequence of making us acquainted 


222 


PHILOSOPHY. 


with the different faculties of the understanding, 
it is likely to suggest valuable hints with respect 
to the great subject of education; and that it is 
an important help to logic—an art which is 
indispensable to guide our inquiries into all 
subjects of a moral and experimental nature. 











RELIGION AND LEARNING 
UNITED. 


“We might ask the patrons of infidelity what fury impels them to attempt 
the subversion of Christianity! Is it that they have discovered abetter 
system ? To what virtues are their principles favourable? Or is there 
one which Christians have not carried to a higher perfection than any 
of which their party can boast? Have they discovered a more excellent 
rule in life, or a better hope in death than any which the Scriptures sug¬ 
gest? Above all, what are the pretensions on which they rest their 
claims to be the guides of mankind; or which emboldens them to 
expect we should trample upon the experience of ages, and abandon a 
religion which has been attested by a train of miracles and prophecies, 
in which millionsof our forefathers have found a refuge in every trouble, 
and consolation iu the hour of death; a religion which has been adorned 
with the highest sanctity of character and splendour of talents, {which 
enrols amongst its disciples the names of Bacon, Newton, and Locke, the 
glory of their species, and to which these illustrious men were proud to 
dedicate the last and best fruits of their immortal genius?” 

Hall on Modern Infidelity. 


The design of the author in this Essay is to 
shew, that when learning and piety are united 
in tlie same individual, they present human 
nature in its most happy and engaging forms. 
He feels it however necessary to premise a few 
remarks before he enters on such a discussion. 



224 


RELIGION AND 


The Christian religion being intended to make 
men wise to salvation, as it comes from God, 
and leads to God again, may well be thought 
sufficient of itself to bless and ennoble the cha¬ 
racter. While it encourages every attempt to 
strengthen and replenish the faculties of the 
mind, and smiles on those laws and institutions 
which promote our welfare as inhabitants of this 
world, it claims the sole prerogative of reno¬ 
vating our moral being, and of opening for us a 
passage into the land of immortality. It would 
therefore be a degradation to its nature and 
origin, to aim to institute a comparison between 
it, and literary accomplishments. In the in¬ 
terest which it is adapted to excite; in its being 
the only source of true happiness, and in the 
solemn manner in which it is forced on the at¬ 
tention, it deserves the first and chief concern. 
Learning is so far from superseding the diligent 
study and practice of religion, that the want of 
the one often strips the other of its principal 
charms. Although none can hesitate to 
acknowledge, that solid attainments tend to 
brighten many of the moral virtues,—to invest 


LEARNING UNITED. 225 

ns, for example, with an air of modesty, and to 
clothe us with humility; these virtues are seen 
to shine in their highest excellence only, when 
they are associated with the belief of the truth 
as it is in Jesus. To deny this, is to abandon 
the New Testament as a guide, and to repair 
again to the school of Socrates. It is quite 
compatible with learned and polite endowments, 
to be under the influence of the most baneful 
and inveterate propensity of our nature, and 
much caution is frequently required to guard 
against their being overspread with vanity and 
pride. On the other hand, a character renewed 
and sanctified by the gospel, exhibits, in the 
entire absence of all literary acquisitions, a 
spectacle, which awakens the sympathy and de¬ 
light of the highest order of intelligences. Mr. 
Foster remarks, when delineating the character 
of Howard, that, “ the invisible spirits who 
fulfil their commission of philanthropy among 
mortals, do not care about pictures, statues, 
and sumptuous buildings.” It is probable also, 
that they find but few attractions amid the 
splendours of genius and learning, and that it 

K 3 1 


226 


RELIGION ANO 


is more congenial with their angelic natures, to 
linger among those, ‘‘who are poor in this 
world, rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom.' 

But not only is Christianity all in all, in con¬ 
stituting us new creatures, and preparing us for 
heaven. Long and tedious ages were suffered 
to revolve, in order that nothing might be want¬ 
ing to impress this great truth on the heart and 
conscience. Nor was it, till after learning and 
philosophy had spent in vain their resources in 
attempting to reform man, that the Gospel 

began to be published abroad. “ It was even 

/ 

necessary for the glory and triumph of religion, 
that the greatest geniuses and all the force of 
human reason should exhaust themselves, in the 
endeavour to make men virtuous. If Socrates 
and Plato had not been the teachers of the 
world before Jesus Christ, and had not under¬ 
taken in vain to regulate our manners, and to 
correct mankind by the unassisted force of reason, 
man might have attributed the honour of his 
virtue, to the superiority of his reason, or to the 
beauty of virtue herself; but these preachers of 
wisdom did not make men wise, and it was es- 


LEARNING UNITED. 


227 


sential, that the ineffectual efforts of philosophy, 
should prepare the way for new triumphs to 
grace,”* 

It is peculiar to religion, that it recommends 
itself, as being that one great thing, which ought 
to be the business of life, and as being adapted 
to every rank and gradation in society. To 
adopt the language of the same eloquent preach¬ 
er whom we have just quoted; “it is not to 
the learned only, that it has confined the sublime 
knowledge of its mysteries; the man of no at¬ 
tainments has prophesied as well as the sage; 
and the ignorant have themselves become its 
teachers and apostles: it was necessary the true 

* 11 6toit meme necessaire, a la gloire et an triomphe de 
la religion, qae les plus grands genies et toute la force de la 
raison liumaine, se fut epuisee pour rendre les homines 
vertueux. Si les Socrate et les Platon n’avoient pas ete les 
docteurs du monde avant Jesus Christ, et n’eussent pas en- 
trepris en vain de regler les mceurs, et de corriger les 
hommespar la force seule de la raison, l’homme auroit pu faire 
honneur de sa vertu a la superiority de sa raison, ou a la 
beaute de la vertu meme; mais ces predicateurs de la 
sagesse ne firent point de sages, et il falloit que les vains 
essais de la philosophic preparassent de nouveaux triomphes 
a la grace.” 


228 


RELIGION AND 


wisdom should be the wisdom of all mankind.”* 
Though these are considerations of vital im¬ 
portance, and cannot be loo frequently dwelt 
upon, a little reflection is sufficient to shew, that 
what is comparatively trifling, when viewed in 
connection with a future world, may assume 
dignity, and be highly beneficial in the present 
state: nor is it opposed to the dictates of reason 
or of scripture, that we should consider some dis¬ 
tinctions in life, as great and eminent. The union 
of unfeigned piety, with talents and literary ac¬ 
complishments, has ever been deemed, by the 
truly virtuous and enlightened, a combination of 
beauty and excellence. In the character who is 
so happy as to possess it, we behold the design 
of education completed—learning consecrated 
to truth—a striking display of humility—and 
numerous sources opened of refined enjoyment, 
which are peculiar to himself. 

* “ Ce n’est pas aux savans tout seuls qu’elle a reserve la 
connoisance sublime de ses mysteres; le simple a proph£tise 
comme le sage; et les ignorants euxmemes sont devenus ses 
docteui'S et ses apotres: il falloit que la veritable sagesse 
put devenir la sagesse de tous les hommes.”— Massillon.Pe¬ 
tit Carime. Sermon, Sur le triomphe de la religion . 


LEARNING UNITED. 


229 


As it is undeniable, the Deity intended the 
cultivation and improvement of the mental 
faculties, so it seems reasonable to conclude, 
that he intended also these should be conducted 
in such a manner, as is agreeable to his pleasure. 
Every view of the subject short of this is un¬ 
satisfactory, and beneath us as the creatures of 
his power, much more as the children of his 
grace. The infinitude of his goodness has sup¬ 
plied us with objects of contemplation as nume¬ 
rous as the stars, and we are permitted to range 
over a field as broad and ample as the universe. 
But it is evident this indulgence is accompanied 
with certain restrictions. While we are per¬ 
mitted to expatiate on whatever is presented to 
the thoughts in the material or immaterial 
world, there are some pursuits which have a 
higher claim on our attention than others, and 
since the Majesty of heaven and earth is alone 
intrinsically, essentially, and eternally good, the 
mind is then most honourably employed, when, 
taking Revelation for a guide, it engages in 
meditations on his attributes, operations, and 
designs. Every other object of study is laudable. 


230 


RELIGION AND 


only as it is pursued under a general intention 
of pleasing him. So that to aim to improve and 
adorn the intellectual powers without any regard 
to God and to futurity, is to diminish the 
necessity of instruction, while it tends to make 
literary acquisitions appear insignificant and 
useless. This has been the peculiar failing of 
many in every department of science and 
learning. Look abroad into the republic of 
letters, and you will witness numberless exam¬ 
ples of men, who studiously endeavoured to 
bring their various faculties to perfection, with 
no other design than to indulge their selfish 
passions, and to gratify their vanity. Here are 
the monuments of one, who with an exuberant 
supply of knowledge, and a mind fraught with 
elegance and vigour, composed the history of 
remote times and ages, and impressed such a 
charm on the incidents, characters, and events 
which he brings before you, that you soon get 
quit of the idea of antiquity, and imagine 
yourself, as you pass from scene to scene, a liv¬ 
ing spectator. But he has infused into almost 
every page the leaven of impiety, and aimed 


LEARNING UNITED. 


231 


throughout, to break down the mounds of virtue, 
to extinguish our confidence in heaven, to throw 
a veil over futurity, and “ to crumble the throne 
of the Eternal.” There are the remains of 
another, who was formed to look on nature with 
a poet’s eye, to catch in their first freshness, 
the different hues which the seasons paint, and 
to pour into his verse, 

“ The mazy-running soul of melody 

But he had no leisure to sing of Him, by whom 
he was filled with his poetic inspiration : the 
visions of God were not deemed to be worthy 
of harmonious numbers, and.hence, it is impos¬ 
sible to believe, though our hearts dilate with 
charity, that he is gone to sing the song of 
Moses and the Lamb. In another direction, you 
behold the works of one, who seemed to be 
blest with an almost universal genius. Besides 
being acquainted with every thing peculiar in 
ancient and modern times, he gave his nights 
and days to philosophy: and yet (can you give 
credit to the statement ?) it never occurred to him 
to inquire at the true source, whether he had 
philosophised aright. The Bible was, in his 


232 


RELIGION AND 


judgment, a book whose claims were extremely 
doubtful, and so far from sitting at the feet of 
the meek and lowly Jesus to receive instructions, 
he was not prepared to recognize in him a 
teacher come from heaven. 

We are formed to believe, that a soul which 
is immortal, is capable of a high degree of hap¬ 
piness; but this conviction is much more deeply 
imprinted, when we behold, with the rarer en¬ 
dowments of nature, all the advantages which 
the most perfect system of education can confer. 
That which peculiarly affects us in the examples 
to which we have alluded is, that so much labour 
and toil appear, in a great measure, to have been 
bestowed in vain; so many acquisitions made, 
which, however brilliant, are of themselves 
extremely disproportionate to our nature and 
destiny: while their unhappy possessors have 
run a career of distinction, without reaching the 
goal, or winning the prize. How different the 
spectacle exhibited before us, when talent and 
literature are blended with the graces of a re¬ 
newed mind! Here all is harmonious, inasmuch 
as the faculties have been strengthened, and 


LEARNING UNITED. 


233 


knowledge and elegance acquired, with a view 
to obtain more just and elevated thoughts of 
God; a keener relish for the harmony of truth ; 
and a more vivid impression of the beauty of 
holiness. 

When learning is consecrated to the services 
of religion, the lustre and excellence of that 
union, which we are contemplating, are very 
apparent. Notwithstanding the facts of inspira¬ 
tion are supported by clear and indubitable 
testimony, they have not so far consulted our 
prejudices and prepossessions, as to prevent 
doubt, or supersede enquiry. On the contrary, 
they have in every age met with violent opposi¬ 
tion, and though it is an act of great condescension 
on her part, Christianity is sometimes pleased 
to defend herself, behind the shield afforded 
her, by men of erudition. We have, by this 
means, seen her rescued from the charge of 
fanaticism, and her sublime mysteries clearly 
unfolded. When a man of liberal education 
assumes the profession of vital piety, but few are 
able to maintain their temerity, in endeavouring 
to prove, that this is the offspring of mere 


234 


RELIGION AND 


enthusiasm. The author is not so absurd as to 
imagine, that the person to whom he refers is 
not liable, to what may, in some respects, be 
considered an unfortunate quality: but he is 
persuaded the examples are not numerous, in 
which men of cultivated minds, bow to the 
authority of a crucified Saviour, without ex¬ 
amining the claims of his religion, and satisfying 
their reason and conscience, that these are irre¬ 
sistible. The poor are often stigmatized as being 
fanatics. Their belief of the gospel; every feel¬ 
ing of which it is productive; and every sacred 
duty which they fulfil, whether it be of a public 
or private nature, is considered the result of a 
vain and heated imagination: and though they 
have those assurances which satisfy themselves, 
and satisfy heaven, they are not always fur¬ 
nished with abilities to repel the scoffings and 
sophistry of infidels. The man of culture and 
information does not labour precisely under the 
same disadvantages. If he fails in producing 
conviction, he often reduces his adversaries to a 
manifest absurdity. Thus the religion of the 
New Testament is a truly rational religion, by 


LEARNING UNITED. 


235 


which is intended, not that this faculty of the 
mind is entitled to any authority as a judge, but 
that the more it is invigorated and improved, 
the more does the reception of divine truth ap¬ 
pear to dignify our natures, and to protect us 
from the darts of the enemy. But while every 
accession to our knowledge evinces, that it is a 
most rational thing to be a Christian; it is, at 
the same time, so far from favouring the suppo¬ 
sition, that an excited state of feeling is incon¬ 
sistent in such a character, that it suggests quite 
the contrary. For what can be conceived more 
contradictory, than to let loose all the ardour 
and vehemence of our spirits, in the pursuit of 
objects which are connected only with this life: 
and not to be penetrated and overcome by those 
revelations, into which angels desire to look; 
which invite to the participation of glory and 
happiness, that are to continue to all eternity; 
and in the publishing of which, the Deity hath 
embarked all his wisdom and goodness.* 

* The Honourable Robert Boyle, one of the brightest 
luminaries, the church or the world ever saw, thus speaks 
with respect to devotion. “ So noble is the nature of devo- 


236 


RELIGION AND 


But learning never appears to greater advan¬ 
tage, than when she is employed for the purpose 
of making religion better understood. To her 
we are indebted, under God, for being able to 
read in our own tongue, his wonderful works. 
She has unravelled many perplexities in regard 
to chronology, history, and a variety of other 
circumstances, artfully woven together, by the 
enemies of the “ common salvation,” to shake 
our faith, and undermine our hopes. Through 
her exertions, the external evidences of Chris¬ 
tianity have collected into a mass, which at once 
astonishes for its size, and for the imperishable 
materials of which it is composed. Nor has 
she been inactive in asserting the incom¬ 
municable honours of the Saviour, and the 
perfection of his manhood; in stating and de¬ 
fending the great doctrines which he came to 

tion, that it admits of failings but by one of the extremes, 
which is that of defect. For, mediocrity, (whose office ’tis 
to restrain us from approaching the utmost limits) which in 
other passions is an excellence, is here an imperfection. Or 
at least, if mediocrity be that which creates passions virtues, 
the mediocrity of this love consists in the boundlessness of it, 
since that is it which makes it most a virtue.” 

Seraphic Love . 


LEARNING UNITED. 


237 


publish; and in devising means to make the 
Scriptures open to every understanding, and ac¬ 
cessible to every hand. When we reflect on the 
invaluable blessings which the world has derived 
from labours such as these, it is impossible not 
to feel respect and admiration for the men who 
have been so honourably employed. Were we 
called upon to produce the brightest examples 
of humanity, whom could we more properly se¬ 
lect than those fathers, who in the early age of 
the church, protected our religion from the as¬ 
saults of paganism, and the inroads of a false 
philosophy? or Luther and Melancthon, with 
their illustrious associates, who at the commence¬ 
ment of the Reformation nobly stood forth in 
the same cause, amidst the threats and impreca¬ 
tions of popes and cardinals? or, in fine, those 
holy men, who have since their days, both in our 
own land, and on the continent, devoted all 
their talents and literary acquisitions to the 
work of explaining the excellence of divine 
truth, and inviting mankind to its cordial recep¬ 
tion ? From these remarks, then, it may be 
seen, that learning never so much beautifies the 


238 


RELIGION AND 


character, as when she becomes the handmaid of 
religion: under every other aspect, she appears 
insignificant, even though we should trace her 
through all the gradations in which she moves;— 
from the elevation of halls and colleges, where 
she is robed in her richest drapery, down to 
charity-schools, in which she is seen in her 
humblest attire. 

In that combination, which forms the subject 
of the present essay, we behold a bright display 
of humility. While there is no duty more 
frequently inculcated than this, in the sacred 
volume, no one, it may safely be affirmed, has 
been oftener violated by men of science and 
letters. Whatever has been the nature of the 
study in which they have engaged, they have 
endeavoured to imprint upon it, some image of 
their superiority and greatness. If their pecu¬ 
liar turn of mind has led them to contemplate 
the wonders of astronomy, it is easy to perceive 
from the speculations which they have left us, 
that they identified themselves with the suns and 
systems in which they expatiated. If they have 
aimed to astonish mankind with the force and 


LEARNING UNITED. 


239 


splendour of eloquence, it has not been without 
pronouncing their own panegyric. If they have 
discoursed on the sublime and beautiful, spoken 
different languages, and exhausted the art of 
criticism, they have not forgotten to consider 
themselves, as the centre of attraction in the 
respective circles in which they have moved. 
But these are examples of the abuse of learning, 
unaccompanied with piety. Nor will it be de¬ 
nied, that where this union fails to exist, there 
are not wanting powerful motives to pride; it is 
indeed a conviction of the propriety of this sen¬ 
timent, which prompts us to admire the character 
of him, who with all the resources of genius and 
learning at command, boasts of nothing, but of 
his religion and his God; who with strong 
temptations to follow reason as a guide, unre¬ 
servedly submits to the voice of revelation. 
“ But when I find,” remarks the great Boyle, 
“ any thing enjoined in the Scripture, my con¬ 
sciousness to its being imposed by the Father of 
spirits, (who hath both right to enact laws, 
which must be therefore just, because he enacts 
them; and power to punish the transgression of 



240 


RELIGION AND 


them, with no less than eternal death;) I then 
leave roving', and cast anchor; I think it my 
part without disputing them to obey his orders, 
and acquiesce more in that imperious tivrog t<prj 

* Thus saith the Lord,’ than in a whole dialogue 
of Plato, or an epistle of Seneca.”* The reader 
will not forget to associate with this distinguished 
man, Bacon, Newton, and Locke, or the justly 
celebrated names of Watts and Doddridge. 
These, and others of equal eminence, took 
delight in placing themselves on a level with 
the meanest capacity. Among the most poor 
and uneducated class of Christians, they recog¬ 
nized a sister or a brother, and completely 
forgot their brilliant attainments, in the midst 
of holy exercises, and divine contemplations. 

While it is the professed design of Christianity 
to make us new creatures, and to meeten us for 
the inheritance of the saints in light, it affords 
abundant entertainment to the most vigorous 
intellect, or to a mind replete with elegance and 
taste. In the compositions of the Greek and 
Roman w riters, and in modern literature, there 

* Considerations Touching the Style of the Holy Scriptures. 


LEARNING UNITED. 


241 


is much to delight and astonish; but we cannot 
forget, these were the offsprings of finite crea¬ 
tures. The Bible, on the contrary, is the work 
of Him, who is the source of all being, and 
therefore infinite, so that we cannot fail to 
have a more impressive sense of sublimity and 
grandeur. Notwithstanding the writings of 
men abound with beautiful sentiments, with 
delicate and touching appeals to the sensibilities 
of our nature, these are often the efforts of 
imagination only, without having any actual 
existence. The narratives of Joseph and David, 
of Lazarus, and above all, of the Saviour of the 
world, are distinguished for more tender strokes 
of pathos, for more melting tenderness; and at 
the same time that they exhibit the beauties of 
holiness, they are the true sayings of God. 
Genius and fancy are prone to clothe scenes and 
events, with a magnificence, superior to their 
real importance; and in the productions of poets 
and historians, we behold a variety of circum¬ 
stances, which are comparatively of little moment, 
adorned with the highest splendour. How 
different the impressions which we feel, while 

L 


242 


RELIGION AND 


revolving the sacred page. The truths which it 
contains are of such a nature, that if they had 

not been revealed, they could never have enter- 

* 

ed into the mind of man: they are expressed 
in language at once sublime, chaste, and simple, 
and forcibly suggest, that the thoughts are 
inadequate to conceive of them in their full 
dimensions, and words unequal to express all 
their majesty and excellence. And though in 
classical, and other kind of learning, we meet 
with passages, so appropriate and elegant, as 
amply to justify the labour bestowed, in enabling 
us to feel their propriety, and to appreciate 
their merits, it is after all, secular, and therefore 
only transient beauty. The Bible aims to dis¬ 
engage our attention from the present world; to 
draw aside the veil which hides futurity from 
view, and to fill our vision with the prospects 
and realities of eternity. These, and other 
considerations are sufficient to shew, the nume¬ 
rous sources which are opened to sanctified 
learning; and is it not truly desirable, that 
parents and guardians, should exert their 
utmost zeal, in endeavouring to make that com- 


LEARNING UNITED. 


243 


bination, which we have been considering, more 
frequent, since it is conducive to elevated 
thoughts, and refined enjoyments? 

But this union shall soon be dissolved, and 
religion be all in all; for when the mind passes 
the threshold of eternity, it will drop that orna¬ 
ment with which it was adorned on earth, and 
leave it to perish with the mighty fabric of the 
Universe. 


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